


Tournament of Love

by i_cant_believe_its_not_bi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Beauxbaton!Draco, Beauxbatons, Drarry, Durmstrang, Durmstrang!Harry, Emotional Abuse, Gay dads, Homophobia, M/M, Minor Character Death, Some sadness, maybe some swedish, some french
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-01-05 12:36:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12190119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_cant_believe_its_not_bi/pseuds/i_cant_believe_its_not_bi
Summary: Harry Potter: the outcast with two gay dads who moved to Sweden from the UK when he was two. Draco Malfoy: the Brit in France with one mother, a father in Azkaban, and a girlfriend that is more like his bully big sister. When the Triwizard Tournament comes around after over three hundred years of being canceled, two worlds are brought together in a grimy yet magnificent British school for witchcraft and wizardry called Hogwarts.





	1. Reluctant

“Harry?” A gruff voice called. Harry stayed in his trance, apparently not hearing anything around him. “Harry…” Still, the dark-haired boy stood unblinkingly, his eyebrows furrowed as his glasses slowly slid down his nose. “Harry!” The voice now yelled with an annoyed tone, accompanied by a punch to Harry's shoulder, which knocked him out of his trance and onto the ground at the same time.

“Wh-what?” Harry grumbled, looking around frantically as he heard a jumble of laughter above him. He saw a tall figure above, blocking the sun from view and talking to the other bodies surrounding him.

“What a queer.” The tall person laughed out, walking away from Harry and beckoning his friends with him, “Come on, we don't want the ship to leave without us.”

Harry stayed on the ground for a moment longer, deciding he didn't want to rush to get on the dumb ship. Why did he have to leave this specific year? Couldn't they just delay this stupid tournament another 2 years or, better yet, just not revive it? The Triwizard Tournament was cancelled because people died, for Merlin's sake. The past three hundred and two years without it have been fantastic, Harry thought, why did they decide to un-cancel it now?

Harry knew he could have just stayed at Durmstrang–there were loads of people doing it, and he was going to. But, as soon as he told Neville that he wanted to stay at Durmstrang, Neville automatically rejected it and convinced an unwilling Harry to go.

"C'mon, man! Dean, Seamus, and me are all going. Who are you gonna have the whole year here at Durmstrang?" Neville told him. Harry knew Neville was right–they were his only friends, and if he stayed he would be completely alone, just like first year. Neville, Seamus, and Dean were the only people who didn't think Harry was a weirdo with a scar. So, Harry reluctantly told Karkaroff that he was going to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament.

Harry stood up carefully, wiping the dirt from his blood red uniform and rubbing his arm where his classmate hit him. He glanced up one last time at the small castle he spent the past six years in. Harry's last year at Durmstrang would be next year, which was exactly why he didn't want to spend his second to last year at some other school in rainy Scotland. He would miss the mountains that loomed over the small, old castle; the reflective lakes filled with cold and refreshing glacial water; the dark winters; the cold and breezy castle. But Harry knew that if he protested any more about leaving Durmstrang for a measly ten months, he would only confirm the names his classmates called him.

"Harry," Seamus said sharply. Harry turned to face him, Dean and Neville flanking the short Irishman, "you ready to go? Karkaroff is talking about leaving soon." 

Harry swallowed and nodded with what he hoped looked like overflowing excitement, but what was actually steaming anxiety, "Bon voyage, I guess." The group of boys finally walked across the old plank from the dock onto the wooden and creaky ship.

Harry had been on the ship countless times in the past six years, but he was still as amazed by it at seventeen as he was when he first boarded it at eleven. From the outside, it looked like a medium-sized wooden ship that was rotting from years of sitting in the water. From the inside, it looked like a rustic, five-star muggle hotel. The walls were still wooden, but the wood looked polished and new. There were countless Durmstrang decorations crowding the walls, matching the red rugs scattered under leather armchairs, couches, and dark wooden tables. Small groups of students were sitting around the common room already, mumbling about whatever they're anticipating on this trip. Only twelve people were going, luckily, so the ship won't be very crowded.

The ship also included a number of bedrooms with four-poster beds and their own bathrooms. After glancing around the common room, the boys made their way to their assigned rooms for the year, and found their trunks already dropped off by the house elves. Headmaster Karkaroff told them that they were sleeping on the ship the whole year, meaning this would be the longest Harry has ever been on it. After quickly making themselves at home, Harry, Seamus, Dean, and Neville met back up in the common room, which was warmed up with a newly made fire. I could just stay in here the entire year, Harry thought to himself. Harry sat on a particularly squishy leather armchair and his three friends took up the couch next to him. Neville, Seamus, and Dean started excitedly chattering about the upcoming tournament as Harry zoned out, staring at the roaring fire in front of them.

"Harry, didn't Sirius and Remus go to Hogwarts?" Dean asked, pulling Harry out of his third trance of the day.

"Hmm? Oh. Yeah, why?" Harry asked.

Neville looked at him with a face that Harry has become all too familiar with in the past few years: the 'are you going to get sad now?' face. Harry didn't know why that face was always pulled whenever people brought up his dads–it's not like he's ashamed of them, it's just the way people treat Harry because of them. Harry knew it shouldn't get to him as much as it did–his classmates didn't know everything Sirius and Remus did for him. He knew that he shouldn't get offended when people called him gay because they somehow thought that, because he was raised by two dads, that he would automatically be gay. He knew he shouldn't let them, and he tried to stop them, but he ran out of energy a while ago.

Dean seemed to not notice Harry's deep thinking and continued on, "Because we're spending a while there and we have no clue what goes on there. Tell us everything."

So Harry did, or at least what Sirius and Remus told him about the school. When he reached the subject of the houses, his friends leaned in curiously. "There are four houses that students are sorted into based on their personalities: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin." They leaned in even more with interest at the last house. Of course, Harry thought. He knew that everyone at Durmstrang would be captivated by the Slytherin house, but Harry couldn't disagree more. Most of what he's heard of Slytherin were strings of insults flung from Sirius's mouth, with good reason. When Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor, his ties with his significantly Slytherin family were damaged, but not completely torn. It was when Sirius's sexuality was discovered by his younger brother that his picture was burned off the family tree.

Harry continued speaking, explaining the virtues of each of the houses, trying not to include his experiences with Slytherin in the mix. Once Harry finished telling his friends about Hogwarts, he slumped back into the chair while they chattered more about what they were most excited for. Harry was just excited to take a fat nap. Harry's mind wandered over to Sirius and Remus; how excited they were to hear the Triwizard Tournament was back on, and that Harry could finally visit Hogwarts–the magical place they talked about all the time when Harry was younger. But it still took a lot to convince them to let Harry go to Britain. Both men have not stepped foot in the UK since the night they got Harry, mostly due to fear. They moved away to protect him, and for that he's forever grateful.

Harry felt the ship's magic slide over him as it dipped underwater, and the steady swaying of the room helped relax him for the long trip ahead. His eyes slowly closed and head tilted to rest on the back of his armchair. Although he felt uneasy about finally visiting Hogwarts, he also felt he was on his way towards a new journey.

The chattering started becoming fuzzy and the world dark as two young boys in red ties appeared before his eyes. One boy with dark hair and a love for rock bands, and the other with blond hair and a fear of himself. The two boys took each other's hands and walked towards a large, empty room with four tables and four hanging banners. The boys disappeared as they passed the doorway, and a dark figure was standing on the other side of the room. When Harry took a slow step forward, the dark figure copied him. But, when Harry tried taking another step, the figure and the room vanished, leaving him in the dark.

***

The soft grass under Draco tickled his palms as he leaned back, taking in the bright sun and warm air. A bright white castle stood in front of the lawn, surrounded by magnificent gardens and winding paths. The sky was perfectly blue, interrupted by a few wispy clouds, which Draco would normally love, but today he considered very rude. The weather just had to be perfect the day he was forced to leave for the rest of the year.

From the edge of his eye, Draco could just make out three people walking towards him and plopping down on the lawn. One of these people sat down right next to Draco, greeting him by putting her hand on top of his and kissing his cheek. "Hello, Pansy m'amour," Draco said in the brightest voice he could manage. Draco tore his eyes away from the engraved Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons on the beautiful castle and greeted the other two people with a nod and a "Blaise, Luna."

"Bonjour, Draco," Luna greeted in her dreamy voice. Blaise just nodded back at Draco.

Yeah, it would be a good day if we didn't have to leave in the middle of it, Draco thought to himself. Draco was required to go to the upcoming tournament–Madame Maxime was making all the upperclassmen attend as a "learning experience." Draco scowled at the thought of leaving the beautiful campus he spent all his time to go to a grimy English school, "I'm thinking I can convince Madame Maxime to let me stay here. Do you think she'll believe that I have some sort of sickness that prohibits me from leaving France?"

Pansy squeezed Draco's hand in a way that could be seen as affection, but was hard enough that Draco knew he said something wrong. "Draco," she said in an all-too-sweet voice, leaning in to kiss his cheek again. When her lips hit his cheek, she stayed hovered above his face, moving to his ear to whisper harshly, "if you don't go, nous sommes finis." She moved away and plastered a fake smile on her face. Blaise and Luna averted their eyes, pretending to be interested in the blades of grass by their feet rather than the scene in front of them. Draco internally shivered and looked away from his girlfriend, instead setting his eyes onto the rose bushes in front of him. The small thorns adorning the stems mocked him. There's always something in his life that looks beautifully compelling but draws blood when he gets too close.

As the sun started descending in the sky, all the Beauxbaton students gathered in the Dining Chamber for dinner before the upperclassmen left for Hogwarts. The Dining Chamber was one of Draco's favorite places on the campus. Not because of the food (although it is wonderful), but because of its gorgeous decorations and atmosphere. The hall was filled with art pieces dating back to the B.C.s, and columns and windows imitating the Muggle romantic times. During the winter holidays, the Chamber was adorned with huge, sparkling ice sculptures that stroke up the most interesting conversations. The students were serenaded by Wood Nymphs to create a relaxing atmosphere when they sat for dinner every evening, which was helping Draco tremendously with the anxiety threatening to bubble up that night.

For dessert, Draco was brought his favorite: strawberries and whipped cream wrapped in chocolate-syrupy crêpes. His mother would always make him this when he was younger and was upset about his father. The thought of his father made Draco shudder with hate. He's only met the man twice after he was thrown into Azkaban, and has no desire to visit him again: Lucius was the reason Draco and his mother had to move to France and cut all ties with their family in the UK. This was yet another reason as to why Draco didn't want to go to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament--he knew the teachers would recognize his surname and realize he was the son of a Death Eater. But, of course with Draco's luck, he was forced to go. This was going to be fun, he thought.

"So, what have you heard of 'Ogwarts, Draco? Your parents went there, correct?" One of Draco's classmates asked next to him at the table.

Pansy's hand landed on his thigh and tried to emit a comforting squeeze that only ended up making Draco even more uncomfortable. "Uh, yes they went to Hogwarts." Draco said slowly, trying not to roll his eyes and emphasizing the 'H' noise that the French always had a hard time saying. "But I haven't heard much, nothing interesting I can tell you," he continued, taking a large bite of his dessert so he wasn't prompted to speak any more.

Finally, Madame Maxime stood at her table, signaling everybody to stand as well. "Bon voyage!" She said in a magically amplified voice. Draco scoffed at the cliché.

The upperclassmen stepped into le carrosse de Beauxbatons while the trainers fed the winged horses attached to the carriages bottles of single-malt whiskey for the journey. Draco wished he would be given whiskey for the trip as well.

Once inside, Draco took a quick look around to find a seat. While they were travelling, the interior of the carriage was just a huge, bright room with windows covering the walls and enough seats and tables to fit all the travelers. Draco counted--there were about 20 seats this time. He followed Blaise, Luna, and Pansy over to booth seats that crowded around a small table and took the empty spot next to Pansy, taking her hand immediately.

"Hey," Pansy whispered to Draco in an almost sympathetic voice, rubbing her thumb on the back of his hand, "people won't hate you because of your father." Draco's features softened at those words, both at relief and surprise that Pansy was actually being sweet. "They'll hate you because you're a prick." She said starkly with a joking smile. There she was.

Draco and Pansy have been dating since they were fifteen, so that meant two years of holding hands and short pecks on the cheeks and lips. Neither of them have had the need to go any further in the relationship, so it just stayed at that: like friends but a little closer. Draco had never thought of Pansy in that way until after she developed a crush on him at fifteen and forced him to go on a date with her. He agreed because he was alone, and he liked her. But back then, he couldn't tell the difference between brotherly love and romantic love. Now, they've been together for such a long time that the world would absolutely be over if they broke up. Draco was okay with this in-between sort of relationship--Pansy seemed to be as well. So they settled.

The people around him were quietly conversing about the trip as the carriage set off into the sky for its one hour journey to Britain. Draco let it all turn to white noise and focused on the feel of the pale blue silk under the fingers that rested on his thigh. Everything will be okay, he told himself, Ça va aller. Tu vas bien.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay my first Drarry fic! I did a lot of research before I started writing so I wouldn't mess up anything about these magnificent schools. Please excuse any bad languages throughout the fic, I just wanted to be cool and I took three semesters of French in high school. Just a note: Harry and friends are speaking in English (since Durmstrang accepts people from all over), while Draco and friends are mostly speaking French amongst themselves unless said otherwise. This fic was actually based on posts by very talented Tumblr user convallarias, which can be found at http://convallarias-art.tumblr.com/post/152421812134/what-a-wonderful-au-x-i-draw-them-too-much-omg and http://convallarias-art.tumblr.com/post/162621689434/am-i-going-to-get-out-of-this-au-or-not


	2. Welcome to Hogwarts

"Nous sommes ici, we are here! Look out the window!" Blaise's voice rang out, yanking Draco out of his light sleep. His tired eyes followed the finger in front of his face that pointed towards the clear glass next to Draco. A dark landscape could only barely be seen through the wispy clouds the carriage was flying through, but as soon as the mist cleared from their view, the French students could see an old castle sat on top of a small mountain, surrounded by taller peaks and a large, looming lake.

"C'est belle." A dreamy voice called out from Luna, her face containing a small grin at the scenery.  
"Not as beautiful as our Beauxbatons…" Draco sighed out, the realization that they really left the school for the year hitting him. The castle below them could never impress Draco more than the castle he spent most of his youth in back in France.

"I believe beauty is incomparable," Luna replied in an almost defensive tone. Draco usually appreciated Luna's ability to see the optimistic side of every situation, but her joyfulness didn't seem to help his skeptical mood as they began landing protocols towards the British school.

Pansy squeezed Draco's hand quickly next to him, articulating in a snide voice to their friends, "Is it bad to say that I'm glad we're sleeping in the carriage?"

"Is it bad to say that I still don't want to be here at all?" Draco added. He watched Pansy's face turn sour after hearing his remark - Draco could never tell if anything he says around her is right anymore.

The graceful carriage smoothly approached the ground as its occupants watched through their windows. Finally, there was a soft bump throughout the carriage that signified their landing and everybody jumped up in excitement. Draco slowly stood to join his friends, excitement obviously absent from his actions. He followed his classmates down the ramp and out of the carriage, Pansy's hand finding his once more.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, friends, we are happy to have you here!" An old man with a long white beard bellowed in a thick English accent. He was waiting outside of the castle with a few other adults; a woman with a grey bun and a pointy hat, a giant man with a fluffy black beard, and a slim man with black greasy hair and a big nose. The wizard with the big nose glanced over the newcomers, his eyes lingering on Draco for longer than what would be considered normal. Draco shifted uncomfortably under the man's gaze and focused his attention back to whom he assumed to be the Hogwarts Headmaster, who was having a difficult time trying to reach and kiss Madame Maxime's cheeks in greeting. Once the headmaster succeeded the seemingly challenging task, he turned back towards the students, "Now please, make your way inside. We will have a feast very soon."

Before they could move inside, a huge splash came from the large lake behind them. A few students turned around and gaped up at the source of the sound, causing the others to look as well. Draco squinted his eyes at the murky water, the dim lighting making it hard to see what was happening. Suddenly, a huge mast flew up from the lake, and a large ship quickly followed. It bobbed on the lake and flung off all the water it collected from the journey. He could hear some of his classmates nearby make noises of awe, Draco's face probably making out the same reaction.

"Ah, Durmstrang is early!" A deep voice laced with a thick Western English accent announced behind Draco.  
The ship arrived at the edge of the lake and an enormous anchor flung out from the vessel to secure their position. Draco felt Pansy flinch at the bang of the ship's doorway open, revealing a group of teenagers dressed in blood red uniforms that were lined with dark fur and paired with fur caps. The teenagers boldly walked out of the ship in an unorganized fashion while gaping at the castle before them.

"They're like ungraceful Centaurs," Pansy quietly remarked next to Draco. More students exited the wooden vessel, followed by their headmaster.

"Jeez, what do they feed these guys?" Blaise asked, sounding more impressed than surprised. Draco smirked at the comment, quietly agreeing as he eyed the broad shoulders and tall stances of the boys walking towards them.

"The girls look so brave," Luna lightly observed with a smile at one of the girls walking past her, her head held high and a smug look on her face. The older man with a similar red uniform quickly walked over to the Hogwarts headmaster, greeting him with a shake of the hand and a friendly pat on the back. The new students gathered around the headmasters and teachers and took in their new surroundings.

As it quieted down, another bang was heard from the lake. Draco turned around just in time to see another boy in a red uniform clumsily clamber out of the ship, his dark hair sticking up all over the place and glasses falling off one ear. Quiet giggling was heard from a small group of Durmstrang boys across the crowd, but it was soon shut up by a sharp glance from their headmaster. Draco held in a small grin threatening to tackle his face as the boy nervously ran up to the crowd, bowed to his headmaster, and ran to join the group that was laughing at him earlier, whom then were punched on the arms by their new addition.

The Hogwarts headmaster flashed an amused smile at the ruffled boy, before turning to the newly formed crowd, "Welcome, Durmstrang, you got here just in time! Now, is anyone else starving or is it just me?"  
"Mangeons, låt oss äta, let's eat!" The old woman with the pointy hat announced, pointing her wand toward the great doors into the castle to fling the doors open for entrance.

Draco followed his French classmates towards what they called the Great Hall, getting mentally prepared for their entrance routine. Madame Maxime insisted that they create a dance of sorts for their entrance into Hogwarts, as part of the Triwizard Tournament tradition. Draco loved dancing, but he did not love being made fun of - something he was sure would happen if they twirled around in front of hundreds of Brits. The British were harsh people.

They stepped into the Great Hall, quickly taking in the room before starting their routine as practiced down the aisle. He could feel hundreds of eyes boring into him as he twirled expertly after his classmates, showing off his years of ballet lessons. Finally, they finished their routine at the front of the Great Hall and stood at attention as their headmaster walked in. The Hogwarts students, clad in black robes and color-coded ties, applauded. Draco thought it was strange how separated the school was in terms of houses. As Draco examined the magical ceiling above him, the doors were once again flung open to reveal the Durmstrang students, who entered with a routine of their own.

Draco's eyes suddenly found a certain broad figure in the group of boys, an excited feeling suddenly bursting in his chest. He lightly elbowed Pansy to get her attention and nudged his head toward the boy, "Pansy, Pansy, do you know who that is?!" Pansy looked over disinterestedly at Draco and gave him a slight shake of her head. "Pansy, that's Viktor Krum!" A confused look remained on her face, telling Draco she still had no clue. He let out a small sigh, "You know, the Bulgarian Quidditch Team's seeker? Only the best seeker in the world?" Draco babbled as he eagerly looked back over at the famous seeker.

He heard an irritated huff come from the girl beside him, then a harsh whisper in his ear, "I don't care, Draco, sports aren't important right now. Or ever." Draco rolled his eyes out of her view, not letting his girlfriend ruin his optimism.

The strange boy from earlier marched right behind Viktor Krum, looking considerably less dishevelled but still embarrassed, shown by the slight blush on his cheeks. He also seemed less clumsy, considering he was carrying out the complicated routine almost carelessly. Draco wondered what it would be like to go to school with someone as famous and talented as Viktor Krum. Maybe he was best friends with everyone…or he stayed away from everyone with his head high on his shoulders. Either way, he was very envious of that strange boy. He probably got free tickets to all the games.

Once the Durmstrang students were finished, their headmaster also followed and sat at the long table next to the Hogwarts headmaster and Madame Maxime. Draco followed his classmates to a table filled with blue themes and students wearing blue ties who were called Ravenclaws, as Draco learned from his mother. He glanced over at the Durmstrang students, who sat at the next table that was filled with green - Slytherin. His family's old house.

***

Harry reluctantly followed his classmates to sit at the table dominated by students with green ties and sat next to Neville, Dean, and Seamus. He glanced longingly towards the furthest table from them, the red one with a lion mascot, knowing that was where his birth Mum and Dad sat years ago next to Remus and Sirius. Harry chose the side of the Slytherin table that faced the Gryffindor table, making sure to stay as far away as possible from the green-clad students.

"So, Neville," Seamus started, plopping down on the bench and flinging his arm around Neville with a smirk, "Since you seem to know all about this tournament thing, can you tell us who all those people are?" He pointed towards the older witches and wizards that sat at a perpendicular table in the front of the Hall.

"Surprisingly," Neville shoved Seamus's arm off his shoulder, "I cannot."

Dean and Harry simultaneously made an 'ooo' and hiss noise at the reply, while Seamus squished his face with displeasure and muttered a "sorry I asked" toward the smiling boy next to him.

"Your attention please!" A magically amplified voice called over the Great Hall. Every witch and wizard seated in the large room turned their heads towards the old man with a long grey beard and small spectacles who stood at a podium in the head of the dining hall. "My name is Professor Dumbledore and I am the headmaster here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I would like to say a few words about why we are all here…" He continued, looking out over the crowd of European students.

Harry rested his cheek in his hand, knocking his glasses askew. He had heard every little thing about the Triwizard Tournament he could ever know - Neville got very into his insisting. So Harry zoned the wizard's voice out, focusing on the old, polished wood of the table underneath his fingertips and the thoughts whirring around in his head. It was under-exaggerating to say that Harry was even more nervous now that he was at Hogwarts. He heard about this magical place in stories from Remus and Sirius throughout his childhood, and he'd always thought it would be glorious visiting it. But, Harry pondered, he would have rather kept the place fictional. It wasn't like Hogwarts didn't live up to its reputation in Harry's mind (in fact, it exceeded it wonderfully), but now that he's at the setting where Remus, Sirius, and his parents' lives took place before he joined the story, Harry suddenly found the bad parts of his background all too real.

A finger softly tapping on the back of Harry's hand effectively startled him out of his thoughts. Next to him, Dean looked at Harry with a questioning and concerning look on his face. Harry replied silently with a slight nod and grin towards his friend, noting in his head that he needed to stop being so transparent, especially if he wanted his friends to have a fun time on the trip rather than having to worry about him.

Finally, Professor Dumbledore finished his speech and waved his hand over the Great Hall to apparate food. The Durmstrang guests, including Harry, gasped in delighted surprise at the amount of food that appeared before them: turkey, ham, and duck paired with a variety of steamed vegetables and mashed potato. There were small platters of warm buttery bread loaves placed next to Harry, which was immediately picked apart by a ravage Seamus. Harry, Neville, and Dean piled their plates up with large portions of the meal while Seamus shoved everything he picked up right into his mouth.

"Excuse me, but we were wondering some things about Durmstrang that you could answer," A posh British voice piped up a few seats down from Harry.

Before any of the Durmstrang students near the green-attired and perfect-postured girl could answer, the boy sitting next to her crowed a string of questions, clearly too eager to separate his sentences, "Where is Durmstrang how do I get in is it more expensive than Hogwarts it must be because my parents won't let me go no matter how much I beg do they really teach Dark Arts there you know Hogwarts teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts but they would never teach us the actual Dark Arts I've even asked a few times--"

"Actually," Harry quipped, the irritation that was built up with Sirius's stories about Slytherin starting to boil with the boy's rambling, "They only let in witches and wizards with a sense of intelligence," He paused for the words to settle, in the dramatic way that Sirius always did, "Maybe that's why your parents sent you here instead."  
Harry turned back to his plate, his cheeks burning red with the amount of 'ooo's and 'burn!'s being passed around the table.

"Good one Harry," Seamus boasted. The boy leaned over the table and shook Harry's shoulder in celebration, "That one was annoying as hell."

A small grin decorated Harry's face as he looked over at Seamus and Neville, who were congratulating Harry extensively on the small burn. But, instead of meeting his friends' faces, Harry's eyes immediately locked with a grey pair that stared at him from behind Seamus's shoulder. The eyes belonged to a boy sitting at the table across from Harry, next to a gaggle of students wearing matching light blue silk uniforms. The boy looked curiously back at Harry while Harry took in his pale, angular features and his styled white-blonde hair. He didn't know why he stared - this was just a regular bloke from France who happens to be sitting right in Harry's view with silky clothes, pale skin, grey eyes, and - oh - and a smile that felt cool even metres away. Harry was about to return the grin when a hand appeared on the boy's cheek, pushing his face towards a black-haired girl sitting next to him and breaking their eye contact.

Just as the boy's face was pulled away, a hand appeared in front of Harry's line of vision, waving frantically to get his attention. "Hello, Harry? What are you looking at?"

Harry blinked, adjusting his glasses and turning his attention towards Neville. "What? Oh, just thinking about the-the Beauxbatons and their…weird uniforms. Don't they get cold?"

Seamus smiled at Harry and turned around to glance at the uniforms Harry mentioned. "You're right, Harry, they are odd pieces. They look like silky butterflies." He turned back to his friends, who were giving him confused looks. "What? Do they not?" Seamus protested defensively, looking almost desperately between Harry, Dean, and Neville.

Dean sighed, "They're in France," Seamus feigned surprise at the obvious statement, earning a death glare from Dean.  
"They're in France, which is way warmer year-round than up north where we are. They probably have different uniforms or something for the winter, who knows."

Harry nodded at the information, then promptly zoned out, imagining the butterfly boy in a white fur hat and light blue fur-lined clothes as his friends continued arguing about if there are any benefits of using silk for clothing rather than it just feeling nice.

Once the entire Great Hall's plates were void of any food and their stomachs completely full, dinner was dismissed. Harry, Neville, Seamus, and Dean all stood up excitedly and discussed what they should do the rest of the night. "Let's explore the castle!" Neville said eagerly.

"Boring!" Seamus bellowed, "Let's find us some English ladies!"

Dean scoffed, "What's wrong with me?"

Seamus sputtered and looked back at Dean with a scolding look. Neville and Harry glanced knowing looks at the back of the group - their best friends have always been bad at hiding their feelings for each other. Harry could suddenly spot a familiar white-blond head of hair through the crowd, his mind immediately yelling 'butterfly boy.' He shook his head at the unconscious nickname and quickly concluded he needed to replace the stupid nickname with this boy's actual name. Harry swam through the crowd of students towards the pale figure, determination etched on his face.

But, before Harry could arrive at his destination, his route was abruptly blocked by a ginger boy wearing a red tie whom Harry promptly ran into. "Oi, sorry mate," The boy muttered surprisingly at Harry, "Di'nt see you there."

"It's okay," Harry mumbled back, giving the boy a confused look. The ginger had freckles dotting his pale face and bright blue eyes that were looking frantically around in the crowd. "…Uh, looking for someone?"

"Yes, actually, my girlfriend - I mean, friend! Totally just friend," He laughed nervously, "She's my friend that's a girl. Lost her in the crowd. Bigger than usual with all these new students." Harry nodded understandably, starting to look around as well. The crowd was thinning out.

A shorter girl with bushy brown hair and a matching red tie appeared behind the boy with a smart look on her face. She tapped on the taller boy's shoulder, causing him to spin around quickly and cry out, "Hermione! I've missed you!"

The girl laughed out, "We got separated for two minutes. Honestly, Ronald, sometimes I think you're too dependent on me. Who's this?" She turned her attention to Harry, who was standing awkwardly behind Ronald.

"What? Oh, I dunno. We jus met." Ronald said, rubbing the back of his freckled neck in thought.

"And you haven't introduced yourself? Well that's a bit rude, now," The girl stepped up to Harry and held out her hand for him to shake, "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Hello, Hermione Granger, I'm Harry," Harry said as politely as possible, taking her hand and shaking it softly.

Hermione let go of Harry's hand and motioned to Ronald, "And this is Ronald Weasley."

"Hermione!" He scolded, looking back to Harry to correct her, "I go by Ron. Ron Weasley." Ron held out his hand for Harry, who took it and shook it once with a nod.

There was an awkward silence, in which Harry glanced around the three of them. The Great Hall was completely empty, save a few other stragglers shoving in some last few bites of dinner.

"Would you walk with us?" Hermione asked, noticing Harry's glance around the empty room. "Ron's been practically dreaming about talking with someone from Durmstrang."

"Have not!" Ron butted in as Harry let out a laugh.

"Yeah, of course." Harry smiled at his new friends.

Hermione smiled back, "I'll let you in on some Hogwarts history as well."

Ron groaned, "Please don't let her start, she'll be going until sunrise." He earned a light elbow in the ribs from his friend. "I can tell you all you need to know. My entire family went to Hogwarts - Mum, Dad, Aunts, Uncles…even my six siblings went here! Do you have a long line of family at Durmstrang?"

The three arrived at a small courtyard that featured benches circling a large fountain. Hermione, Ron, and Harry sat at one of the benches bordering the sculpture, continuing their conversation. "Actually, no, I'm the first. I don’t really have much family."

"Do you have any siblings?" Ron asked. Harry shook his head in response.

Hermione piped up at that, "I'm an only child, too. Gets lonely sometimes, right?"

"Yeah, sometimes, but my dads are really entertaining so I have no problem with boredom at home." Harry gushed, drowning himself in memories of Sirius and Remus. He missed them.

He barely noticed the almost judgmental face Ron sported. "Dads?" He asked curiously, earning another elbow in the ribs from Hermione next to him.

In his excitement about his dads, Harry forgot about how judgmental the wizarding world could be about homosexuality - the old families had very traditional ideals about everything, especially about two men loving each other. "It's okay, Harry," Hermione said softly when she noticed the anxious look on his face, "I'm working on getting Ron to learn social acceptance. He's grown up with a very old pureblood family."

Ron nodded somberly, realizing his mistake, "Yeah, I'm sorry mate. I'm sure your dads are brilliant." He smiled brightly at Harry, who nodded and smiled back at his new friend.

"It's okay, you're way better than all the other students at my school." He replied disapprovingly.  
Hermione and Ron agreed sympathetically, before Ron lit up again, and almost shouted, "Oh, your school! You have to tell me all about it!"

So Harry did. The three teenagers sat on the bench facing the fountain for what seemed like forever, animatedly discussing an array of topics from Durmstrang's Dark Arts classes, to Hogwart's gamekeeper called Hagrid who's twelve feet tall with a heart of gold. Ron and Hermione agreed to give Harry a school tour and were about to leave, before Harry remembered, "Oh! I can't tonight - Karkaroff's making us do something as a group in an hour."

His two new friends nodded empathetically, and the trio said goodnight. As Harry left the courtyard, he couldn't help but let a gigantic grin split across his face. Suddenly, he was wonderfully excited for the next year's stay at Hogwarts. He knew these new friends would make it more than bearable. So, with that thought in mind, Harry trudged to the Durmstrang ship on the large, dark lake for the school's late night meeting.

***

"…And I guess the food was pretty good, but why is the castle so grimy?" Pansy complained next to Draco.

"Not everything can be a palace best fit for the Queen Pansy." Blaise sarcastically played as he bowed low in front of the girl, earning a hit on the shoulder in response. Draco chuckled at the interaction and let go of Pansy's hand to run it over his face in a tired manner.

When he glanced at the fountain, Draco caught sight of recognizable dark messy hair across the courtyard. He inched forward to catch a better view of the Strange Boy. Draco didn't know when he started calling him that, but it seemed like a fitting nickname until he found a better one. The large fountain still mostly blocked Draco's view of the boy, so he was only able to see him through the running water. As Draco squinted, a hand softly landed on his shoulder. He turned around towards the touch, and Luna looked at Draco with a knowing smile on her face.

"Talk to him," She said softly, as to not gain attention from Pansy and Blaise, who were animated in conversation. Draco furrowed his eyebrows questioningly, but she still smiled at him, tipping her head towards the Strange Boy, "Go, I'll cover for you." Draco still stood looking at her with confusion etched on his features, but she urged him with a small push and he was off.

He lightly walked around the fountain towards Strange Boy, the structure no longer blocking his view. He halted and watched as the boy tilted his head back and let out a bark of a laugh at something the ginger Hogwarts student said. A smile threatened to decorate Draco's face, breaking the serious composure he was trying to maintain while carrying out his sneak over to the Strange Boy. He didn't want to be a giddy mess during his first impression. Draco began to take another step over, when his path was blocked by the witch with a silver bun and pointy hat that greeted the visitors earlier that night.

"Hello, there," She said with a whispered English voice.

"Um, hi," Draco replied hesitantly. Why was she talking to him? "May I help you, Madame?"

The witch furrowed her eyebrows curiously at Draco, seemingly deep in thought. "You have an English accent," she replied, more of a statement than a question. Draco slowly nodded his head at this while he came up with a list of excuses to avert this conversation and leave. "Did you have parents who went here? You do look familiar." Her eyebrows furrowed even more at the boy, wrinkling her fragile skin.

This was what Draco wanted to avoid. He could easily lie, tell her that his parents went to Beauxbatons as well and that he was just really good at English. But he knew he wouldn't - his mother taught him the habit of honesty early on, afraid he might end up like his father. So, Draco was forced to politely nod and reply, "Yes, they went to Hogwarts."

The witch stared at him even longer, creating an awkward silence between the two. Draco tried to avoid her piercing eyes, looking over her shoulder towards where the Strange Boy was. But, the Strange Boy was gone. The only people sitting on the bench was the ginger boy and fluffy haired girl. Before he could think more of it, the witch suddenly straightened up with a look of eureka slapped onto her face, "You're a Malfoy!"

Draco cautiously nodded, not knowing what kind of reaction would come from him confirming her revelation. As he predicted, the witch froze at the realization and a stunned look crossed her face as she thought through who his family was. She opened her mouth to say something, but it snapped shut just as quickly. But she didn't have to say anything; Draco knew everything that probably crossed her mind. So, Draco lightly pushed past her, muttered an "I have to go," and briskly walked across the courtyard and towards the edge of campus where the French carriage was parked.

***

The Durmstrang students slowly disappeared from the crowds as the night aged. When the students' pocketwatches struck the twenty-first hour, the group exited the old wooden ship, walked under the twinkling stars and into the ancient stone castle with tiny slips of parchment between their fingers. One particular raven-haired boy anxiously waited his turn in the small queue towards the roaring blue flame. He fiddled with the small parchment that branded his name, folding and unfolding it, reading it over and over. Finally, the boy pushed up his glasses, walked up to the magical goblet, and read the slip one last time in a whisper before dropping it into the flame: "Harry Evans."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for more character development! Sorry Draco and Harry haven't officially met yet, but hey, at least they locked eyes long enough for them to form nicknames for each other ("Strange Boy" and "Butterfly Boy"). Remember to comment and such--that's how I gathered up most of my motivation to keep writing this long ass chapter. Also go follow my Tumblr for updates and funny posts that I find on my dash: https://i-cant-believe-its-not-bi.tumblr.com/


	3. Questions

When Harry woke up, the room was still flooded with complete darkness. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat and his chest was rising and falling quickly under the covers. Harry didn't remember what it was about, but he knew he had a nightmare - a regular occurrence for most of his life. He flailed towards the bedside table to search for his wand, fingers finally finding wood after a few seconds. "Tempus," He whispered, even though there was nobody else in the room. The time shined bright in his face and Harry sighed with exasperation when he saw it: "6:07".

Harry knew he could never go back to sleep after one of his nightmares, so he decided to take a quick walk. He tiredly rolled out of bed, dressed in his uniform, and quietly stepped out of his room, through the dark ship, and out the door. Once he stepped outside, the brisk morning air induced a slight shiver throughout Harry's body. But he didn't cast a Warming Charm; although Sweden was much colder than Scotland, the feeling reminded him of home.

Winters in Sweden always brought blankets of snow across the country that were perfect for big snowmen, snow angels, and snowball fights that inevitably ended in Sirius shoving snow down Remus's shirt. But once Harry started going to Durmstrang, it was a different story.

_The small village was covered in the most snow it's seen in years; there were even reports of rooftops caving in under the pressure. In one particular tiny, warm cottage at the edge of town lived the only magical family within kilometers. It was their tenth Christmas in the Swedish muggle town and they were celebrating Harry Evans coming back for his first Durmstrang break._

_He was eleven years old and already went through a substantial amount of teasing from his classmates._

_Christmas Eve, Harry helped Remus and Sirius make their feast as he always did. But this year, it was done with a quiet demeanor. Sirius and Remus exchanged looks when they took in their usually energetic son's mood, but neither spoke up. While they ate, Harry glanced between his dads with a thoughtful look._

_"So, Harry, how's school going? Made any cool friends? You know, Sirius and I met in our first year - he set my bed curtains on fire." Remus said with a reminiscing grin._

_“Hey! It was an experiment!” Sirius interjected. He was immediately shushed by his husband._

_Harry's brows furrowed at the question. "Actually, no, I've made no friends." He could feel the usual sadness seep in._

_"Why? Who wouldn't want to be friends with our Harry?" Sirius exclaimed with a pitiful face._

_Harry became more irritated as he pondered why nobody wanted to introduce themselves to Harry and make funny conversations like all the groups of students around him seemed to do all the time. Instead, he earned funny stares and weird names. "Why do people call me a fairy?" He wondered if his dads knew what it meant. He knew it obviously didn't mean the magical creature - he was a wizard, after all._

_His dads exchanged looks once again. Remus shook his head slightly at Sirius, silently telling him not to explain it to Harry - he didn't need to know the implications behind the word. "Um, Harry, who calls you that?"_

_"I tried to make friends at the beginning of the year and it was going well until I told them about you two. They called me a fairy and walked away." Harry explained with a desperate face, "Why do they call me that?"_

_"Harry, we don't know," Sirius lied quietly._

_But Harry knew better. "When I asked Neville, he told me that everybody avoids me because I have two dads," His chin started to shake as tears welled up in his eyes, "Why do you have to ruin everything for me?" His voice wavered as he snapped at his dads._

_Suddenly, Harry jumped out of his seat and ran out the door into the deep snow. Sirius and Remus yelled after him, but Harry kept running. The snow came to his knees and he wasn’t wearing any protection from the cold, but Harry kept running._

_When Harry finally stopped running, he was lost. The land around the village looked completely foreign with the deep snow coating it. Panic set in and Harry fell into the snowbank, letting out his loud sobs. He had no friends, probably no dads, no coat, and no idea where he was. His fingers started losing their feeling and his ears felt like they had disappeared; Harry wished they taught him the Warming Charm in school earlier. But there was nothing he could do to save himself. It was the scariest thing he had ever been through at eleven._

_By the time Harry was convinced he'd die out there in the snow, a shout reached his ears. Harry flinched, his eyes suddenly wide open. His ears strained for the noise and breath quickened as he gained more hope. "Harry!" A tired-sounding voice yelled out, followed immediately by another voice shouting the same thing. Harry could recognize the voices - they were his dads._

_"Here! Here!" Harry croaked out, pushing himself out of the snowbank._

_Finally, Sirius and Remus reached him after both running at full speed toward the boy. "Harry! Oh, Harry, we found you," Remus said with a shaky voice._

_"We thought we'd lost you, Harry. We searched for forever." Sirius bent down and pulled Harry out of the snow and into his warm arms. Harry relaxed into Sirius's body._

_"We thought we lost you." Remus whispered with silent tears running down his face. He hugged Sirius and Harry to his body._

_The family stayed hugging for a while, soaking in the warmth and love of each other, before Remus let go and declared, "Let's go inside and build a fire. We can make hot cocoa." Harry and Sirius cheered simultaneously at the promise of cocoa and Remus laughed delightfully. Harry remained in Sirius's arms the whole way back, both not quite ready to let go._

Harry shivered as a breeze blew through his tussled hair. He drew his wand out of his pocket and finally cast a Warming Charm, soaking in the warmth just like that night. He remembered a lot changed after Christmas that year - Harry realized after that incident that his dads might just be more important than having friends at school. He made himself pledge to never go against Remus and Sirius again; they did so much for Harry that he never realized.

The morning after he attempted to run away, Harry was handed a small velvet box from under the Christmas tree. The tag hanging off it read, "To: Harry, the most special boy in the world, Love: Your Dads." Harry looked up to Remus and Sirius with the biggest smile until Sirius begged Harry to "open it, already." When Harry lifted the lid off the box, he saw two small metal tags, a certain phrase engraved on both in large capital letters. His smile became impossibly larger when he read the tags. He knew right then that this was the best Christmas present he would ever receive.

As Harry looked out across the Black Lake, he reached under his uniform and took out the chain that hung around his neck. At the end of the chain were two metal tags that lightly clinked together when he looked down to read the phrase engraved on each one, "I love my dad."

***

A soft knock gently pulled Draco out of his deep sleep. The sunlight gliding into this room through the window pierced his eyes as he opened them slowly, not sure the source of the noise that woke him. Another knock sounded; this time, the sound was clearly coming from the door on the other side of the room. Draco sighed, rubbing his tired eyes and sitting up in the bed, "Come in."

The door slowly swung open, revealing his girlfriend. "Good morning, m'amour," She said quietly, stepping in and closing the door behind her. Draco aimed a grin at Pansy as a silent greeting. She walked over to Draco, lifted the bedsheets, and climbed onto the bed next to him. Draco sighed happily as he hugged Pansy closer to him, enjoying having someone to cuddle with. He rarely got any physical comforting and was eternally grateful Pansy was there. Although they had some (or many) bumps in their relationship, there was still a sense of security there that Draco clung onto.

Pansy shifted in Draco's arms and her face suddenly appeared over his, a small smile decorating her usually hard face. Draco enjoyed her in these moments; the moments when she was not afraid to show her soft side. He tucked a strand of her short, brown hair behind her ear affectionately before they met in the middle for a quick, chaste kiss. When they separated enough for Draco to be able to see her face, Pansy was in deep thought.

"What is it?" Draco asked, retreating his face more in order to examine her expression.

Pansy shook her thoughts away and replied almost inaudibly, "Just…I want to try something." Draco nodded at this, and immediately understood when she quickly crashed her lips onto his, lingering longer than before. Just as Draco was about to pull away and ask what she was doing, Pansy opened her mouth against his closed lips and ran the tip of her tongue along his bottom lip. Instinctively, Draco reacted with a groan, which opened his mouth for Pansy's access. He began kissing back.

The kiss was sloppy - both Draco and Pansy were highly inexperienced. But, it wasn't so bad, Draco thought. He was wondering why they put it off for so long. Suddenly, Pansy's hands collapsed onto his shoulders. Draco thought nothing of it until she used his shoulders as support to straddle his waist. His actions paused when the pressure of Pansy on top of him settled in. Did he really want this? With Pansy? Her hips started moving, almost flailing herself against Draco and trying to get him to start kissing her again.

No no no no, Draco thought, shaking his head abruptly and breaking the kiss. Pansy pulled back and searched his eyes with a questioning look, to which Draco decided not to reply to. Draco awkwardly looked around the room - anywhere but the girl who happened to be sitting atop his lap. He didn't know what to think. He spent years imagining what going further with Pansy would be like, but never thought it would actually happen. This train of thought was halted when the hands rested on his shoulders slowly slid down his biceps, past his elbows, and onto his forearms by his wrists. Now it was time for Draco to questioningly look at Pansy. But she didn't answer either. Instead, Pansy swiftly pulled Draco's hands up to her chest, forcing him to cup her breasts.

"A-ah!" Draco stuttered, pulling his hands away and pushing Pansy off his lap.

Without any pause, Pansy turned back to Draco on the bed and yelled, "What the hell, Draco?"

His mind turned blank. Why was she yelling at him? "Excuse me, I should ask you the same thing!" Draco yelled back, not even thinking to apologize like usual; she was the one literally forcing him to touch her.

"Actually, you shouldn't," She fumed, her face turning a bright red - Draco couldn't tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. "I'm fucking tired of this, Draco."

Draco could feel his heart drop in his chest. Is this really happening? Now? "W-what? Tired of what?" His tone defeated him as his hurt shined through more than his anger. "Are you breaking up with me?"

Pansy paused. Her eyebrows furrowed and eyes almost became soft, before her irritation took over once more, "No, Draco, of course not. You can really be such a pussy sometimes. Actually," She backtracked, "You don't know how to be a pussy. You've never actually seen one before."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" His anger was swelling up once more. He couldn't believe she actually resorted to name calling. "Pussy? Are we twelve now?"

Pansy straightened up at the questions, lifting her eyebrow. Even when she was angry, she was composed. "We've been together for two years, Draco, yet we've never gone past pecking each other's lips or giving affectionate hugs."

"We just--"

"Draco, let me continue." Pansy's voice was shaking - she was either on the verge of yelling or crying - both of which Draco really didn't want to experience, so he nodded. "I've…" Pansy paused, thinking through her words. "It's gotten to the point where I can't even tell if you're actually attracted to me half the time. We've been acting more like friends - not even best friends - these past two years. You've never actually said you loved me." Pansy's voice cracked and tears formed in her brown eyes at the last sentence.

Draco just stared at the bedspread under his spread fingers, avoiding Pansy's glare. He didn't know how to reply - he wasn't confident he could reassure her that he loved her or that he was attracted to her in that way. It was obvious he couldn't after the way he reacted to her trying to take it further. After the silence stretched for a few minutes, Pansy huffed, bolted out of the room, and slammed the door behind her. Draco let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. For years, he subconsciously believed their relationship would stay the same forever, with the exception of marriage. While he sat on the side of his bed and let a tear roll down his cheek, he realized how stupid he was being all that time.

He lied to himself for two years at the cost of his friend.

***

"So, Harry," Ron began quizzically. He and Harry were sitting on the wooden benches surrounding the Goblet of Fire, both watching a girl shyly walk up to it with a small piece of parchment in her hand. A small group of people, presumably her friends, whooped excitedly when she dropped it in the flame. "If you grow up with gay parents does that make you gay? I mean I know it's obviously not a genetic thing because, you know, babies come from straight people…so maybe it's an environmental thing? I'm still trying to figure out where gay comes from."

Harry sighed, used to this type of question. The wizarding world really wasn't very much educated on sexuality. "No, it does not make you gay. And I don’t know where it comes from, it just happens." He shrugged.

"So you're not gay?" Ron asked quickly with interest.

Harry hesitated. Even with all the names he's been called referring to homosexuality, he's never actually wondered if he was gay. "Uhm. I don't know."

Ron pulled a confused face at Harry's reply, as if knowing one's own sexuality should be a simple thing. "You don't know?"

"Yeah," Harry shrugged again, trying to play it off. "Never really thought about it."

A hand smacked on Harry's shoulder, the ginger suddenly gaining a determination for something in the conversation. "I can help you figure it out!" He jabbered at Harry, smiling at him expectantly. He found this oddly exciting.

Harry hesitated, pulling a face at his friend, promptly sputtering as he realized what Ron might've meant with 'helping him,' "Um, sorry, Ron, but we only just met and I've never done…anything before, I don't know if I can--"

"No, no! Oh no, Harry! I didn't mean that." Ron yelled suddenly, waving his hands to stop Harry from speaking. Harry sighed in relief. He really didn’t want to have his first kiss with a straight bloke. "I meant like, a test."

"A test?" Harry pondered.

Ron nodded importantly and sat up straighter on the bench to begin his declaration, "The Gay Test." Harry barely managed to stifle a giggle at his dramatic friend, earning a fake glare in his direction. "First question," Ron grinned enthusiastically, beginning his improvised test, "Who are you more attracted to: me or Hermione?"

Harry's eyes widened in surprise; this suddenly seemed like a trap, "You two are my friends! Is neither an acceptable answer?"

Ron twisted his mouth in disapproval, but then stopped the facial expression to think. Harry could practically see the gears turning in his head. Ron sighed, a bit of disappointment decorating his features, "Fine, acceptable. Let's try people you don't know, yeah?" Harry agreed.

The ginger's eyes scanned the crowd of students around them, trying to choose acceptable candidates for the challenge. "Ah!" He pointed over at a girl wearing a light blue silk uniform. "Her, and…" He thought more, scanning the crowd for another person and furrowing his eyebrows in concentration. Harry smiled in amusement of his friend trying to find an attractive bloke for his question, and decided to help. He glanced around at the crowd and spotted a tall bloke wearing a Hogwarts uniform and a yellow tie, and sporting messy blonde hair. Harry gestured with his head towards the student and Ron's eyes followed, his features brightening as he continued his question, "And him. Who do you find more attractive?"

Harry subtly glanced between the two people, trying not to gain attention from the students around them. Attractive, he thought. What did he find attractive? His mind flashed to the boy he saw in the Great Hall at the Welcoming Feast - Butterfly Boy - and his slicked back, bright blonde hair; his sharp nose and grey eyes; his pale skin and lean figure. His smile. Was that it? Was Harry gay? But, as his eyes flicked between the two people, he became even more confused. The girl had perfectly styled blonde hair that was pulled back under her blue hat. Her eyes were an almond shape, and Harry could see how bright of blue they were from across the room. Her full lips formed a perfect smile and her laugh sounded like bells. She was fit. And the boy was lean and was obviously athletic. His brown hair was messily styled, and was messed up even more when he ran his hand through it - but it suited him. He was leaned up against the wall with an arm propped up by his head, showing off his forearms that were on display thanks to his folded sleeves. _He_ was fit. So, Harry answered exactly what he thought, "Both."

"Both?" Ron repeated incredulously, "You can't like both."

Harry scoffed, a tad offended at the comment, "Well, I do. I didn't know there were rules for this."

Ron thought for a second and shook his head as he finally pushed it away, moving on in the conversation, "Whatever, this is only the first question. Maybe we'll be able to narrow it down with more questions."

Harry nodded hesitantly, not knowing what to say.

"Next round of questions, agree or disagree," Ron paused to make sure Harry understood, to which Harry nodded for him to continue, "Boobs!"

Harry winced at the sudden lewdness. "How do I agree or disagree with boobs?"

Ron rolled his eyes with a huff of annoyance, "Do you like them?"

"I-I mean, yeah, they're nice, I guess," Harry stuttered, confused as to exactly Ron wanted.

Ron grinned at Harry, satisfaction rolling over his face. "Test done."

"What?" Harry began, startled at Ron's abruptness.

"Test done!" Ron said excitedly, "Want the results?" Harry nodded. "Straight. You're straight, not gay. Obviously."

"Obviously…" Harry repeated softly. His mind flipped back to the Butterfly Boy smiling at him and the, well, butterflies that appeared in his abdomen at the thought. "But, what if--"

Ron interrupted Harry with a finger and a "Nope, Harry. No 'what if.' You're straight. Attracted to that girl over there, probably prefer Hermione over me--" Harry tried to interrupt at that point, but Ron continued, "--and you like boobs. Case over."

Harry sat back, giving up on the conversation that sent his mind still fluttering all over the place. He didn't think sexuality could be all that simple. He shook his head and scoffed inwardly at himself - the rumors were actually starting to get to him. He wasn't gay at all, and he couldn't be. He didn't want to let down his dads by making people think having gay parents changes the kid. So, Harry concluded, straight it was.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by someone sitting between him and Ron. "Hello boys," Hermione greeted happily, "What have I missed?"

"Nothing," Harry and Ron said simultaneously, both sporting suspicious looks on their faces.

"Okay," Hermione replied slowly with her eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Anyways, have you boys put your names in the Goblet yet?"

Harry nodded with a slight frown, while Ron shook his head quickly, with a "No, not yet."

"Well, you've got to soon, Ronald - we only have four hours until the names are chosen." Hermione emphasized, poking Ron's shoulder as if that would motivate him to do as she said.

"I know, 'Mione, I just--" Ron was interrupted by a group of rowdy students wearing red uniforms walking in. When the group spotted Harry, they waved and headed over to sit on the bleachers by him.

Seamus slapped Harry's back in greeting and grinned, "Harry!" He crowed.

Neville sat next to Harry, "There you are, we've been looking everywhere for you."

"Thought you'd gotten swallowed up by the Dark Lake." Dean finished with a laugh.

"Actually, it's called the Black Lake," Hermione's voice piped up, not being able to resist correcting Dean. The three boys looked at her with matching surprised faces at the interjection. "Also called Great Lake, although those are obviously nicknames. The real name is actually Loch Shiel." There was a pause in conversation as five boys surrounding her stared in confusion, while one stared with amazement and a sprinkle of attraction. Hermione examined the expressions, shook her head, and returned to her book while the boys recovered.

It was then that Harry remembered to introduce his new friends to his old ones. "Oh, Neville, Seamus, and Dean this is Ron and Hermione." He pointed at each person as he said their names, deciding to do the introducing all at once. The students greeted each other politely before settling into an easy small talk about the tournament.

“I can’t believe there’s a bloody age restriction on the thing,” Ron complained, gesturing towards the Goblet sitting in the middle of the room, “If I was underaged I’d be brassed off!”

“Actually I’m a bit thankful for it.” Seamus piped up. Harry, Neville, and Dean glanced at Seamus, flabbergasted he was actually following a rule. Hermione nodded her head in agreement, to which Harry wasn’t surprised–if there was one thing he’d learned about Hermione in the past day, it was her constant encouragement for rule-following.

“Thankful?” Dean questioned.

“Yes,” Seamus replied with a new grin, “Thankful.” Everyone sitting exchanged curious glances at Seamus’s change in morals…or presence in morals.

The confusion lasted until two young wizards strolled confidently into the room, holding small potion bottles. They clinked the glasses in celebration and took the shot. Right after the boys drank the potions, the two simultaneously stepped over the glowing circle surrounded by the Goblet. When nothing happened to them, Ron audibly sighed in disappointment while the other young witches and wizards in the room eagerly cheered. But, just as the cheers started to fill the room there was a loud shout as the two boys' hair turned grey and grew long beards to match. 

"Thankful!" Ron extolled and shared a high five with a cackling Seamus. Harry, Ron, Dean, and Neville all laughed along happily while Hermione barely stifled her smile at the scene.

***

"Why do we have to do this as a group again? I heard the 'Ogwarts students just go in their free time." A student from the back of the group spoke up.

Madame Maxime didn't even react to the question–she only replied with a straight face and smooth walk, "We are not 'Ogwarts, we are Beauxbatons. Besides, the Durmstrang students put their names in the Goblet as a group; we might as well do the same."

Draco followed closely behind Madame Maxime, trying to stay as far away from Pansy as possible. He knew she was angry with him - she'd been avoiding him all morning. With that, he also knew that if he so much as looked in her direction with the wrong expression, Pansy would absolutely blow up. So he kept his distance.

Each of the students gripped their small pieces of parchment nervously once they arrived to the room. The Goblet was displayed right in front of Draco’s eyes; its bright blue flames pierced his vision. Just as his classmates formed a line and began throwing their parchments into the magical flame, something at the corner of Draco’s eye caught his attention.

He turned his head directly towards the movement and his eyes were met with a particularly smile-y raven-haired boy with glasses. Strange Boy. He was just staring at Draco with a distracted lazy smile decorating his face. Draco looked away immediately, feeling uncomfortable just staring at the boy while he was staring back. When Draco advanced in the line and flung his name into the Goblet, he could still feel pringling on the back of his neck like there was someone staring at him. Still. Draco turned around quickly, making sure his eyes landed right on the green ones staring at him. The sudden eye contact must have snapped the boy out of his trance, because he suddenly became flustered and looked towards the person next to him, pretending they said something to him. Draco let his lips turn up at the reaction.

Maybe Strange Boy really was a fitting nickname for this one.

Draco spun around and walked out the door to catch up with his school and get ready for lunch in the carriage, mind already wandering back to him and Pansy’s fight this morning. This was going to be an interesting year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for leaving comments and kudos and sharing; I appreciate it a lot and it's motivating me a ton to update. I'm sorry that it takes me forever to update - I would write a lot more if I didn't have this thing called college. But, nevertheless, I hope everyone's enjoying the fic so far, I'm so excited for what I have planned for it! Comment your favorite part of the fic so far and I'll love you forever.
> 
> P.S. I never want to write the word "breast" ever again.


	4. Alcoholic Pigs

"There she is, why don't you ask her?" Harry gestured towards Hermione, who was walking towards Harry, Seamus, Dean, and Neville. Ron and Hermione were taking them to a small town called Hogsmeade that Hogwarts students visited occasionally over the weekends. Harry was ecstatic when they invited him - he wanted to see the friendly place that Sirius and Remus always described fondly when telling Harry about their lives in school.

Seamus skipped over to Hermione and Ron with excitement and Harry sighed with relief. Seamus was a great friend to Harry but sometimes he could be irritating with his constant antics. "Ah, Hermione, I have a very important question," Seamus said quickly without any greeting. He nodded towards Ron in recognition then continued his curious stare at Hermione.

Her face brightened up and Harry almost laughed in amusement at the reaction. That girl was nothing like anyone he'd ever met. "Oh fantastic, I love questions. It's always amazing when people show interest in expanding their minds. What is your question?"

Dean poked Seamus's cheek softly, interrupting his gawking at Hermione. Seamus blinked, "Uh, yes, well… Hogsmeade" Hermione smiled and nodded him to continue. Already knowing how this conversation would go, Harry walked towards Ron, who was walking on his own in front of everyone. "Why is it named after alcoholic pigs?"

Harry could hear Hermione scoff loudly, and a few moments later she joined Harry and Ron at the head of the group. "So she doesn't know?" Seamus quietly said and Neville hit his shoulder with a laugh.

"So, Harry," Hermione ignored the remark and turned towards Harry, "How do you feel about the champions for the Triwizard Tournament? Ron cannot stop complaining about how his name wasn't picked."

"Hey! You know as well as me I deserved to be chosen over Cedric." Ron intruded on the other side of Harry.

Harry shrugged non-committedly, "I don't really know Cedric or Fleur personally," Ron let out a giggle at the mention of the two people and Harry aimed a glare in his direction, "But I could've almost predicted Viktor winning the Durmstrang champion."

"Well, of course! He's only the best Quidditch player ever!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione shook her head fondly at her friend's brashness, "Never mind that - what's he like personally?"

Harry blinked. He'd only had a few conversations with Viktor - not near enough to know his personality. "Uh - erm, I don't really know."

"You don't know? You've gone to school with him for years!" Ron crowed incredulously.

"Well, he's in the year above me," Ron's face was still laced with confusion and Hermione pulled her eyebrows together in thought. "He's a famous Quidditch player, he's never really talked to anyone like me…" Harry trailed off, not knowing exactly how to explain that Harry was the laughing stock of the top years in Durmstrang and Viktor was always surrounded by a big group of intimidating people.

Hermione's expression shifted to sympathy as she realized what Harry meant. She cleared her throat while throwing a sharp look towards Ron when his mouth opened for another question. "Anyways, I'm excited to see what the Department of International Magical Cooperation has come up with for the tasks. I'm sure they will be very educational."

"And violent." Seamus appeared between Harry and Hermione with a laugh. Dean smacked the back Seamus's head with a smile, and Harry couldn't help but burst out laughing at Hermione's incredulous expression at the addition. Ron, Dean, and Neville joined Harry when Hermione's expression deepened at Harry's reaction. After a bit, even Hermione joined in, and the whole group didn't stop giggling until they arrived in the tiny town of Alcoholic Pigs.

***

Draco was having a bad day.

Pansy was acting completely normal, which unsettled him even more than when she was avoiding him. She was making jokes with Blaise and Luna about absolutely everything surrounding them and making Draco laugh. He was just waiting for her to explode like a bomb without a countdown.

A small commotion far ahead of Draco caught his attention. The strange boy from Durmstrang boasted a huge smile on his face, letting out the purest laughter at something his short friend said. His eyes stuck on the boy; his smile almost took up his entire face, making the gesture look more genuine and natural. Draco was sure the stranger was always happy - he couldn't see him otherwise.

The dark-haired boy's laughter seemed to be contagious, as the rest of the students surrounding him joined without hesitation, and Draco even wore a grin at the scene. He remembered when he and his friends were that giddy and pure.

A scoff reaching his ears from his right reminded Draco that it didn't stay that way for long.

"I can’t believe Fleur is our school champion, did she not singe her eyebrows off in fifth year with a _simple jinx_?" Pansy sneered. She had been ecstatic at the chance to compete in the tournament herself, so when Fleur Delacour's name flew out of the Goblet instead of hers, anyone could imagine the amount of irritation Pansy radiated.

"That was two years ago, she has improved exceptionally since then I am sure," Luna replied reassuringly.

"And the Goblet chooses champions for more than their magical ability," Blaise continued with a smirk, "Such as compassion, courage…"

"Oh shut up, you weren't chosen as well," Pansy grumbled, smacking the back of Blaise's head. He didn't seem shaken, only rubbing his head with an entertained smile.

Draco watched on, not wanting to contribute to the conversation in case Pansy notices he still exists and becomes angry. However, once the conversation ended, Pansy immediately decided to walk right next to Draco and bump his elbow with hers. Draco internally groaned. That plan did not work out well. 

"Draco…" Pansy began. Draco prepared for a conversation about their fight. Merlin, what if she was breaking up with him? He didn't know how he would react if she proposed such a concept-- "You lived in England, your parents went to Hogwarts," Pansy interrupted Draco's panicked thoughts. That was not what he was expecting. Draco nodded in reply, not trusting his voice at the moment. "Do you happen to know anything we could do today in this town?"

"Pansy, we moved to France when I was two years old. My mother never talks about Hogwarts with me, so I don't even know if they had these 'Hogsmeade weekends' when her and…" Draco paused with a shaky breath, "my father…were in school." Draco didn't know why the mention of his father remotely affected him - it's not like the man actually took part in raising Draco. He was preoccupied at the time.

Pansy paused, obviously noticing Draco's hesitation, but didn't say anything. Instead, she nodded and stepped away to walk next to Luna.

"We can just find some locals to help us," Blaise suggested after a few seconds of silence.

As if on cue, two green-clad Hogwarts students walked past them. Pansy immediately ran out to them and grabbed their arms and basically dragged them towards the group. "You have been recruited as our locals," Blaise told the two disheveled and slightly afraid strangers.

"I think we need their consent first," Draco laughed out. He turned towards the boys and pointed to each of his friends, introducing them one by one, "This is Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Luna Lovegood," Then he touched his own chest with a friendly smile, "And I am Draco Malfoy." The two boys' mouths immediately dropped wide open once Draco said his name. He decided to ignore it, not wanting to know their connotation with the word 'Malfoy.'

"Would you like to show us around this Hogsmeade?" Luna continued for Draco with a friendly tone.

The two boys exchanged looks that were too easy to read for Draco's liking. They didn't seem very intelligent for Hogwarts students. Not a second later, they both turned back, nodding excitedly in agreement.

The shorter of the two stepped up to the group with his hand out, "Vincent Crabbe."

The other boy offered his hand as well, "Gregory Goyle." The Beauxbatons shook Vincent and Gregory's hands in greeting.

"Now," Pansy exclaimed after the 'consenting' and greeting were over with, "Show us where to get the booze."

Not even an hour later, Pansy's high pitched laugh pierced the ears of everybody sitting around the group's small table in a corner of The Three Broomsticks. Draco rolled his eyes in irritation - he should really work on trying to keep firewhiskey away from her. As if on instinct, Draco flung his arm around Pansy's shoulders to keep her steady. Pansy immediately pulled away, a hint of a scowl on her face.

Blaise immediately asked what was wrong from across Draco. He knew someone would notice - Pansy usually was the one who wanted Draco to touch her more, and she'd been avoiding him for two days now. Pansy let out a short laugh at the question, her drunk good mood thrown away quickly in place of her drunk sour mood, "I broke up with Draco."

" _What_?" Draco immediately exclaimed with wide eyes.

"Are you sure he knows that you broke up with him?" Luna added, shooting a concerned look towards Draco. 

Pansy let out a string of giggles, leaned her elbows on the table, and supported her lolling head with her hands. Draco had enough with this. Without a second thought, he shot out of his seat and immediately started walking away from the dreaded table. He couldn't believe she just broke up with him in front of Blaise and Luna…and even the new friends they made just an hour ago.

Draco headed for the bar at the front of the large room, deciding it might be better to stay here than get himself lost in a foreign town. "Water, please." He told the wizard behind the bar. 

Correction: he was having a _terrible_ day.

***

Once they arrived at Hogsmeade, Ron and Hermione immediately led them towards a bar called the Three Broomsticks for butterbeer (which Sirius and Remus told Harry repeatedly they wished was available where they lived - maybe he could find a way to take a barrel of the drink back to Sweden with him). As soon as they found a large wooden table to sit around, a middle-aged wizard approached with a smile. "Butterbeers for everyone, please." Ron immediately told the man, who nodded and made his way towards the bar. 

The group of friends continued their conversations as before without a single beat of silence ever ringing between them. Harry was glad he found Hermione and Ron - he didn't know what he would do without them, and Neville, Dean, and Seamus seemed to get along with them well.

From the corner of his eye, Harry could see a figure at the other side of the room stand quickly and stride towards the bar. Harry's eyes tore away from the drink that appeared in front of him and settled on the figure, which was now sat in a stool at the bar, facing away from Harry. Although Harry could only see the boy's back from where he sat, he still knew that it was who he knew as Butterfly Boy by the bright blonde head of hair, which was now resting on his arm while he waited for the bartender to make whatever he ordered.

With a head full of thoughts, Harry distractedly stood from his seat and ignored his friends' protests. As Harry made his way towards the bar, he remembered stupidly that the boy was from France, and he probably didn't know much English. Harry learned French one year in Durmstrang but earned low marks, which he quickly remembered as he tried to rack his brain for the word for 'hi.' 

He remembered using one word frequently to greet people, but he wasn't entirely sure how to pronounce it. Once Harry pulled himself out of his thoughts, there was a pair of light grey eyes staring curiously at him. Harry didn't know how long he'd been standing there speechless, but he knew he probably shouldn't any longer. 

So, he stuttered out what he thought would be a substantial greeting, "Um, salope?"

Harry knew immediately that he said something wrong as the boy's expression changed from curiosity to pure confusion with a dash of offense. "Slut?" Harry blinked with surprise at the abrupt insult towards him. He was just trying to be nice, yet this complete stranger calls him a slut.

"Excuse me? What did you just call me?" He replied defensively, hurt that Butterfly Boy actually turned out to be a judgmental, inconsiderate little--

"No, I was _not_ calling you a slut - you called me a slut," the boy replied slowly. He paused, something suddenly dawning on him, "Were you trying to say hello?"

Harry could feel his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "Yeah I was, I guess I have to work on my French more…" He stumbled over his words as he mentally scolded himself for the mix-up. "Wait," Harry straightened up in realization, "You're British?" He knew the boy's accent wasn't what he was expecting - it was the exact same as Harry's.

"Erm, yes. Hello." A posh accent decorated the boy's smooth voice, "Long story."

"Well that's okay," Harry pulled out the stool next to Butterfly Boy and looked at him with a comforting grin, "I like stories." He sat on the stool, an expectant smile still decorating his face. The stranger just looked at him with a scowl that wrinkled his pale skin.

" _I_ do not." The boy replied shortly, turning his head to stare at the glass of water set in front of him.

Harry could tell the boy didn't want to be bothered, but he couldn't help but keep trying. "Oh, come on, who doesn't like stories? Maybe you just don't like telling them."

"Excuse me, but why exactly are you here?" The boy snapped at Harry, who jumped a bit in surprise at the short tone. Harry furrowed his brows at the question. It was a pretty obvious answer, he thought. But he stammered the answer out anyways - maybe the boy didn't notice his Durmstrang uniform. "Oh, erm… I came to Hogwarts from Durmstrang for the tournament and now we're--"

"No, I didn't mean this shop. I meant why are you talking to me? I don't know you." Draco replied. He didn't feel like having a conversation when he was just broken up with after 2 years. He just wanted some time with himself and the dirty-looking bar in front of him, not an annoying talk with some stranger he's admired a few times.

"Well, that's precisely why I'm talking to you. Don't you think it's wrong that we don't know each other?" The strange boy shifted in the bar stool next to Draco's (the one that Draco wished would be empty right about now) and beamed a smile towards him, probably expecting Draco to warm up to him or something.

Draco's eyebrows shot up at the audacity, irritation still finding its way into his response, "No, actually I don't. We're on opposing sides of the Triwizard Tournament."

The boy scoffed and Draco tore his eyes away from his drink to examine the stranger, who looked a little dismayed but was still smiling. From a closer view, Draco noticed a white curse scar in the shape of a lightning bolt decorating the boy's tan skin on his forehead. Draco thought there might have been an interesting story behind it if he asked. His scruffy dark hair stuck up in odd places that made Draco uncomfortable, along with the too-bright green eyes that popped out due to the dark eyelashes bordering them. "Oh, come on, you don't really care that much about the stupid tournament do you?" His bottom lip surrounded by short, dark stubble was taken in by his teeth, probably worrying that Draco might reject him.

"I…" Draco was about to emit another sneering response at the boy, but he caught another glance at the happy face. He knew he couldn't let this boy down, especially when he was trying his best to become friends with Draco. Draco knew he probably needed someone right now when all of his friends were going to take Pansy's side in the breakup. With a sigh, Draco flashed a small grin in the boy's way, "…No, not really."

If possible, Harry felt his smile widen as the boy finally let his guards down, "Good. Now, I think since we've both been dragged to Scotland against our wills, I think we deserve some good out of this." He offered his hand formally, "I'm Harry Evans."

Draco took Harry's hand without hesitancy, not letting himself overthink everything like he always did. This was the time to change, for the better. "Draco Malfoy."

"Nice to meet you, Draco. Now, how about we get ourselves something other than boring water." _Harry Evans_ turned towards the bartender, gesturing between the two of them, "I'll have two butterbeers."

Draco directed an admiring smile at his brand new friend - he must have had plenty of courage to do that. If it was up to Draco, he knew he would have never gone up to strangers and forced them to be friends with him. Harry caught his eye and grinned back, though he never stopped smiling for the past several minutes, and handed Draco his first butterbeer.

"Cheers," Harry exclaimed excitedly. The two boys clinked their pints together and took drinks, exchanging excited looks over the tops of the glasses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the very long wait for this chapter - classes have been so hectic so I've only had time to write for tiny increments of time in the past couple of weeks (this chapter took so long to complete). Now it's finals week so after this week I'll _possibly_ be able to write this next chapter or two quicker.
> 
> Anyways, comment! It makes me want to update sooner! Have a nice day (that's an order).


	5. Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a (mostly) Drarry blog now! It's where I will post my future writing, including updates on ToL, so go check it out if you want: lilreyofmoonlight.tumblr.com
> 
> My main blog is still i-cant-believe-its-not-bi.tumblr.com if you want more general Harry Potter, shitposts, and social justice-type things.
> 
> Anyways, thanks for being patient! Remember that writers will work faster with incentives... (I'm not bribing you I swear, I just want some comments!) Enjoy!

_Dearest Harry,_

_Home is good._

_We were thinking the other day about getting some type of pet because we've been so lonely without you, but then I realized Padfoot is enough work as it is. He suggested a fish, but you know the both of us would accidentally kill it - it was a wonder we were able to raise you for this long without too many accidents._

_How's the tournament? We heard the first task is supposed to be starting soon. Padfoot's been ranting about it all the time since you left back in August; he thinks (and I think) that it is greatly unfair that they decided to continue the tournament a mere twenty years after McGonagall tore up our petition for it and gave all four of us detention for three weeks. (Padfoot here - I'm suspicious Minerva got the idea from us and waited until we were all dead to listen to our petition… it did have fifty-seven signatures on them, and only thirteen were fake!)_

_Anyway, we both greatly wish that we could visit and see one of the tasks, but you know it's too dangerous to do so. We miss you so much and will hopefully see you at some point soon (we're begging you, come visit Christmas time this year!)._

_Hugs and many, many kisses (ew too sappy for our angsty teenager, Moony) and a few more manly bear hugs,_

_Moony and Padfoot_

Harry gave the snowy owl a light pat on the head as he fed her enough treats to recover from her long journey. "Made sure they were behaving, Hedwig?" He let his small grin grow as he touched the inked paw print pressed at the bottom of the page.

Hedwig replied with a chirp then flew off to a high perch in the owlery once she figured that Harry didn't have anything immediate for her.

Harry folded the letter carefully and tucked it into his crimson robes. He would write a reply as soon as he got back to the ship later that day. For now, he looked around the small cylindrical building where all the owls at Hogwarts rested. It wasn't the most pleasant place to stand in - the walls were coated with white excrement and radiated a strong matching smell that made Harry's nose wrinkle when he first entered earlier this morning.

He wasn't expecting Hedwig to arrive with a letter from his dads - he was taking an early morning to explore the Hogwarts grounds. Harry had started to appreciate mornings a lot more in the past few weeks he'd spent at Hogwarts, even if it meant he got less sleep. He didn't know what it was that made mornings so appealing to him: the feeling of the crisp air hitting his tired face, the dew coating everything and wetting his shoes while he walked, the relaxing atmosphere as everything else around him still slept soundly, or the sunrise he might have believed was magical.

The sun created an unbelievably gorgeous orange tinge to everything the rays hit, making the Owlery more tempting than it might've been any other time. The small window across from Harry held the perfect view of the Great Lake as it reflected the early sun, and of the mountains that were almost completely covered with premature snow.

Once the sun hung over the mountains and was too bright for Harry to keep admiring, he stepped from the window and cast a Tempus. Eight o’clock. Harry was supposed to meet some friends in a few minutes to save some seats for the First Task.

***

As Harry walked through the doors to the Hogwarts entry hall, he spotted a certain person amongst the crowd walk towards him.

Draco was carrying a green apple in one hand and a banana in the other. "I hope that banana is for me," Harry called over the noise of his stomach growling at the sight of food.

"Hi Harry," Draco said pointedly, waving his apple in greeting, "Nice to see you too." He handed Harry the aforementioned banana, which Harry immediately began peeling with excitement. "You always forget breakfast," He muttered so softly that Harry almost couldn't hear him.

Harry was about to reply something that had to do with how beautiful this morning was and how Draco should've joined him this time instead of sleeping, but his chance was taken when someone called Harry's name.

He whipped around in response and found Viktor Krum running towards him with a smile on his face. Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion; as much as he'd imagined Viktor happily running towards him, this wasn't normal. "Viktor?"

"Hi Harry, um…" Viktor craned his head to find Draco behind Harry, who looked about as starstruck as Harry might've felt if he hadn't gone to school with Viktor for six years, "Harry's friend," He continued when Draco didn't introduce himself and only stared with an open mouth. "I have to talk to you," Again he glanced towards Draco with a curious face, obviously trying to make connections. Victor's face shifted after a few seconds of contemplation, "Unless you're busy…" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, immediately causing Harry's face to heat up.

"No, no, not busy at all," Harry reassured. He couldn't believe what Viktor just implied between him and Draco, but decided to move on instead of asking him to explain. After all, Draco was (although still completely frozen with nerves) standing right behind him with working ears. "What's up?"

Viktor's smile widened at the question as he apparently remembered why he came. The huge smile didn't fit the usually serious man's face at all, Harry thought. Viktor always walked around with a blank expression, probably to avoid rumors since he was the most famous Quidditch seeker in the world. "I - I," Viktor stuttered, then immediately cleared his throat in embarrassment and reassembled his usual serious composure as a group of giggling Beauxbatons and Hogwarts girls passed them. "You are friends with Hermione, yes?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I was wondering if that redhead she is always with…"

"Ron."

"Yes, Ron. Is Ron her lover?"

Harry paused. Why did he have to say that so...bluntly? "Uh, no not at all, they're like brother and sister."

"Oh really, they do not look related"

"No, that's not what that mea--"

"Thank you for your help."

"N-No problem? We were actually about to meet her and a few friends to watch the first task, do you want me to tell her anything for you?"

"No thank you, that would be ok."

"Okay, well… good luck today"

"Oh thank you very much, Harry. And it was nice to meet you, Harry's… _friend_." Viktor started walking away and gave the two of them a small wave.

Harry turned towards Draco with an amused smile. Draco was still staring with wide eyes, but soon unfroze and stuttered out a loud "B-Bye,” to which Viktor turned around and smiled without even trying to cover up his confusion. Once Viktor was out of sight, Draco heaved a self-deprecating sigh, "Shit, I froze"

"You froze,” Harry snickered. It wasn’t usual to see Draco uncomposed like that, he always made sure to keep his face masked and voice smooth. Harry quite liked Draco unguarded like that. Suddenly, a quick hand slapped Harry’s arm. "Ouch! What'd you hit _me_ for?"

Draco rolled his eyes in response, and uttered out, "Oh stop complaining and eat your banana.”

"Okay," Harry replied and wiggled his eyebrows as he took a generous bite out of the fruit. His mouth was still full of mushy banana when he looked around, "Where are the others? Have you heard from them today?"

Draco visibly cringed at the sight of the food in Harry’s mouth, but quickly recovered after smacking the back of Harry’s head. Harry had to admit that might’ve been a justifiable reaction, though he still didn’t appreciate the abuse. "Yeah, I ran into Ron in the Great Hall during breakfast. He said that they were going to meet us there and asked us to save seats."

Harry nodded and they began walking towards the stadium. Even though he was educated thoroughly on the Triwizard Tournament by Neville, he still had no idea what to expect out of the First Task. He’d heard rumors that there were dragons involved, but he shook them off quickly. It was impossible, it would be too dangerous to do something with dragons since the Tournament was put back on with the promise to increase safety. Harry knew next to nothing about dragons, except they were big, scaley, had wings, sharp talons, actual fire-breathing skills, and hide that makes a perfect leather jacket, according to Sirius.

Anyways, Harry was excited to see what tasks they came up with for the Tournament. Although the dragons might improbable, it would still be _fucking awesome_. And it would give something for him to write home about.

Harry was broken out of his thoughts as Draco’s hand bumped against his. He glanced up at Draco, who wasn’t paying any attention as he stared off towards the large stadium that sat directly in front of them.

“Merlin, that’s huge.” Harry breathed out. At that, Draco abruptly looked at Harry with an amused smirk.

Harry looked back, “What?”

Draco seemed to have an inner debate, but put on his usual mask and replied with a still amused voice, “Nothing.”

“ _Okay_ ,” Harry said with exasperation. The two settled into a slightly awkward silence and Harry struggled with more conversation starters. He hadn’t made new friends since his first year of school and had apparently forgotten how difficult it was to get past the awkward stage.

Luckily, Draco broke the silence when he kicked the ground as he walked and asked, "Have you any nicknames?"

Harry’s mind immediately went to the words his classmates would offhandedly call him instead of his actual name. He pushed those thoughts down as quick as they came. Draco didn’t need to know all of that. "Uh…none that really stuck with me…"

"I feel like Scar Head would be a good one for you," Draco said with a grin. Before Harry could protest, Draco reached up and ruffled Harry’s hair, exposing the left side of his forehead where his scar was located. He’d never been particularly insecure of his scar - it was the coolest part of himself. The scar was almost completely white, which stuck out against his olive skin. It was shaped like a lightning bolt, but not like those simple ones that looked like a backward z. It resembled the strike of electricity you’d see in the sky during a storm.

"Hey!" Harry fixed his hair so it covered his forehead again. No matter how cool it may have been, Remus and Sirius told him to be careful about showing his scar… that maybe it would give them away. He was about to ask Draco if he had any nicknames either, but he decided against it. If he was to call Draco a nickname, he’d rather it be his own original one. He thought back to when he first saw Draco. "Can I call you Butterfly?"

Draco furrowed his eyebrows in surprise. "Butterfly?!" Harry nodded excitedly with a smile. "I--" Draco stopped.

"What?" Harry asked, concerned. What if Draco had bad experiences with butterflies? He’d never talked about his dad...what if Draco’s dad was _killed_ by a butterfly?

"I'm not entirely sure if that nickname would fit me…” Draco’s lips turned up weakly as he tried to laugh it off.

Harry shifted his gaze away from Draco, "Well, what do you think would?"

Draco blinked in thought, "I like dragons…they're graceful, strong, confident. People depend on them. Butterflies are fragile and people only notice how pretty they look.” Draco’s face instantly lifted at the idea. “So yeah, maybe something that has to do with dragons."

"Dragon it is!"

"Wow, original."

"Adorable Dragon?" Harry’s smile instantly widened as he watched Draco blush and stutter. He really did have a reason to want to call him that.

"Not adorable! Dragons are _not adorable_!" Harry half expected Draco to cross his arms, stamp the ground, and pout after the tone he managed to defend himself with. Instead, he pressed his lips in a thin line and furrowed his eyebrows.

Harry laughed at the reaction, "Then don't complain about my originality!" After a beat, Harry looked away from Draco and added quickly, " _Dragon_ ,” with a small growl at the end.

Draco hid his face at the sound, "I beg of you, please just call me Draco."

"I'll think about it."

When Draco and Harry finally entered the stadium, they spotted Luna and Blaise quite quickly. They were sitting in the very front row, which was elevated at least 5 meters above the field in the center. The field was not actually a _field_ , Harry observed - it just consisted of several boulders. A giant nest was sat on a flat boulder and nestled large eggs, with one golden egg of similar size perched at the top of the pile. Interesting.

Draco led the way towards his friends, who were waving excitedly even after Draco and Harry obviously saw them. When Harry first met Blaise and Luna, he was surprised. They seemed similar enough to Draco, but what was curious was how different the two were from another, yet they were closest in the group. Luna had a very airy, optimistic quality about herself, while Blaise was uptight and almost pessimistic. Harry guessed they balanced each other out.

Once they sat and greeted each other, Draco turned to his friends, “Do you know if Pansy is coming to the Task? I haven’t seen her in forever…” 

Harry didn’t know why Draco wasn’t immediately asking about the setting that was laid out directly in front of them.

“She told us that she might come later,” Luna replied with a smile.

“But I don’t think she’s going to want to sit with us,” Blaise added.

Draco’s eyes fell. Harry felt bad for him - it must be hard going through a bad breakup, especially _now_. So he decided distraction might be the best solution.

“What are those eggs on the ground?”

The question earned three various glares: Luna’s being curious, Blaise’s basically telling Harry that he was stupid, and Draco’s more amused than anything.

“What?” Harry asked, feeling very patronized.

Draco sighed and looked back at his friends, “You two do know that Durmstrang doesn’t focus as much on magical creatures as Beauxbatons does, right?”

Blaise let out a clipped laugh, “Yes of course we do, but how does one not know what dragon eggs look like?”

“Dragons,” Harry whispered to himself. The rumors were true. Luna confirmed his thoughts with a delicate hum of agreement. He almost laughed at the coincidence, “Draco, I’m sure you’ll enjoy this task quite a lot.”

“Depends on what they’ve decided to do with the dragons,” Draco muttered. He seemed to still be in a down mood because of Pansy, but Harry could tell he was slowly slipping out of it.

The stands were starting to fill up, including the seats around them with their friends - Ron, Hermione, and Neville arrived shortly after Draco and Harry.

Harry glanced around the stadium’s entrances for what felt like the hundredth time. “Where the hell are Dean and Seamus? The task's about to start.”

There was a pause in conversation and Harry looked back at the silence from his friends. “They’re going to be late,” Neville replied, not meeting Harry’s eyes.

“Why?” Harry exclaimed, “They were so excited about getting good seats and everything for this task…”

There was another pause, but this time Harry could see Ron, Hermione, and Neville exchange looks that he couldn’t read. It was Hermione who replied this time, “Yeah, they decided to go back to the ship before the task for…for some rest.”

Harry was absolutely confused. There was no other word for it. Dean always went to bed the earliest out of all of them, and Seamus wouldn’t miss this task for a nap. Harry’s eyes narrowed into what he’d hoped to be an intimidating glare, “What are you not telling me?”

Hermione replied once more, “Harry, th--”

“Dean and Seamus are official.” Neville blurted. Once he realized what he’d said, his eyes widened, “No, wait, I--”

“Neville!” Ron and Hermione shouted together.

“They’re...official?” Harry processed slowly. He could feel Draco shift next to him, but didn’t look at his expression.

Ron sighed, “They told us not to tell you yet, mate…”

“Why not?!” Harry questioned harshly. Why would they keep something this big from him?

“No, Harry, they weren’t trying to keep it from you,” Hermione insisted. There was something about Hermione, you would believe anything she told you full heartedly. So Harry relaxed. “They wanted to tell you themselves. Plus, you know how discriminating wizarding society can be about these kinds of things…” She trailed off, knowing he wouldn’t need any more explanation.

Harry nodded, then grinned slowly, “Bloody finally.”

Neville, Ron, and Hermione all nodded in agreement.

But Draco, Luna, and Blaise were all silent. He’d yet to tell them about Sirius and Remus - he was too scared to. They seemed like great friends, he would hate to find out if they were just as hateful as everybody else was about it.

So Harry let the conversation move on.

***

Draco was nervous at first about the task when he saw the dragon eggs. He knew he shouldn’t have worried due to the strict rules that the Department of International Magical Cooperation kept for the tournament, but he was convinced for a moment that the champions would seriously injure the dragons. However, after the initial shock, Draco found the task incredibly intriguing. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen dragons - his mother took him to see some in Romania after the last time he’d visited his father and was extremely upset. The excursion definitely took his mind off it.

The task consisted of the champions trying to take the golden egg, which the mother dragons were trying to protect as if it was their own. Even if it was a bit cruel to worry the dragons like that, Draco thought the task was quite clever. And although the champions obviously knew nothing about dragons while they tried to distract them (even Fleur, Draco was disappointed to point out), it was still entertaining.

Once the First Task was over, everybody decided to go back to their sleeping quarters to take naps before meeting up for tea and an in-depth analyzation of the task.

Draco opened his bedroom door and completely halted. An eagle owl was sat on his bedpost with a letter attached to his foot.

“Bubo Bubo?” Draco quickly walked over to his owl, who just blinked up at him. Draco left Bubo Bubo back in France with his mother - they’ve shared the same owl since they had to leave England. Usually, she would send Draco a letter or two a month, so his owl’s presence shouldn’t have been concerning.

But he had a feeling it should have been.

Draco carefully untied the letter off Bubo Bubo’s leg and fed him a treat before opening the letter nervously.

_My dearest Draco,_

_I cannot find a way to state this over paper and I wish I could come and tell you in person, but I am sad to say that is not possible._

_Your father has passed away._

Once his eyes passed over the tear-smudged line, Draco held his breath and willed himself to read the remaining of the letter.

_I am currently at Azkaban to pick him up for cremation. Unfortunately, nobody will tell me the cause of Lucius's passing. His body is covered in irremovable glamours so I cannot determine myself._

_There will be no ceremony for him, so you have no need to come visit, just try to focus on your year at Hogwarts._

_I know he would be displeased to find you leaving this special opportunity for him._

_I love you very much and would enjoy hearing about your time so far at Hogwarts._

_You are missed,  
Mother_

Draco immediately dropped the letter onto his bed as tears started to blur his vision. _Passed away_. _Body_.

“Father’s dead,” He breathed out before sitting on the bed and staring down at the letter again, “He’s gone.”


	6. Mourn

A finger poked Harry’s shoulder, “Hello? What’s wrong?”

Harry blinked, focusing his gaze on the offender. Hermione stared back at him with tightly knit eyebrows, “Huh? Uh, nothing...why?”

“Harry,” Hermione gave him an almost stern look. Harry shrugged. He had absolutely no clue what she was asking about. “You’ve been staring into space all day.”

Okay, maybe he had some ideas. He spared another searching glance towards the Ravenclaw table, knowing already that what - or who - he was looking for wouldn’t be there like the other million times he’d looked. “It’s Draco,” Harry muttered, looking back at Hermione, who gave him a questioning look in return. Either Harry was going mad or she really wasn’t as observant as he’d thought. He sighed, maybe he’d have to explain himself after all.

Until Ron suddenly broke out of his food marathon and butted into the conversation, “Oh, yeah, Draco!” Harry flinched and turned towards Ron, who sat opposite of him. Hermione then directed her look to Ron. He only shook his head in disbelief, “Goodness, ‘Mione, didn’t you notice? Draco’s been missing since the First Task and Harry’s been going crazy looking for him all day.” He then turned his scrutiny towards Harry, who sat with his mouth hanging open, “Really, Harry...could’ve been more discreet about the whole thing.”

Maybe Harry really was going mad.

Hermione huffed, obviously irritated that she didn’t catch it, “I knew that. I just wanted him to tell us so he can get his thoughts and feelings out, _Ronald_.” She shot a hard glare towards the mentioned, who immediately held his hands up in surrender.

Harry chuckled at the interaction playing out before him, which then earned himself two highly dangerous glares. “I’m just gonna go ask Luna and Blaise where Draco is…” He lightly said, and stood up carefully as to not set off any bombs. He loved his friends but they’d been bickering a lot more lately than usual and he’d prefer not to be around them when the peak of it blows up.

So, he fled to the other side of the Great Hall, where Luna and Blaise were already looking at him expectantly.

***

Draco didn't know how long he'd been sitting on his bed crying, but he did know that his back ached, it was dark outside, and he ran completely out of tears. Now he was just staring blankly (and tiredly) at the floor beneath his socked feet, trying to focus his mind on figuring out why the death of such a horrible man had taken him like this. But, his brain wouldn't work the way he wanted it to...he was just so tired. Draco was about to give up and go to sleep when a single knock sounded at the door, so soft that he would have completely missed it if he were still buried deep in his thoughts.

A tiny, "Draco?" traveled through the door.

Draco cleared his throat and wiped his face, even though his tears dried long ago. "Come in," He said in an impressively composed voice.

The door opened slowly and let in a flood of yellow light from the hallway outside, and a figure stepped inside. The figure quickly closed the door behind him and just stood there. "Harry, what are you doing here?" Draco breathed, not as worried about having a composed manner around the boy as usual.

Harry stayed silent for a few moments while he watched Draco with a concerned frown. He then looked down towards his own arms, and Draco followed his gaze, finding something nestled in Harry’s arms - a food tray. Harry looked back at Draco again with a smile that softened his features and made something in Draco’s chest flutter, "I haven't seen you all day. I thought you might have slept through our tea plans, but then you didn't show up for dinner. Thought you might be hungry." At the last sentence, Harry lifted up the tray in acknowledgement.

Draco let a small grin invade his face, which Harry could probably barely see due to the dim lighting of his bedroom from the single candle hovering in the far corner. "Thank you, Harry. That's very thoughtful." Draco could hear a hint of affection in his own voice and awkwardly coughed into his fist.

Harry replied with an equally awkward, abrupt nod and took that as an invitation to walk towards Draco and set the tray of food on his bed, which Draco proceeded to ignore as he stared at Harry until the messy-haired boy started to squirm under the scrutiny. There was a question pulling at Draco's mind: "How did you get into the carriage? Only Beauxbatons students are granted access through the doors…" Draco trailed off, knowing that Harry knew exactly what he was talking about as his eyes lowered to the ground and Draco was almost sure he could see a blush dusting across his tanned cheeks.

"I was really worried…so, I asked Luna to let me in," Harry quietly said with a tinge of embarrassment.

Draco chuckled, "You were worried I was having too good a sleep?"

Draco was now completely sure Harry was blushing, even in the dim lighting, "Oversleeping is bad for you! I was just looking out for you."

"And Luna couldn't have checked on me?" Draco replied without a thought.

Draco immediately regretted his words when Harry didn’t meet Draco’s gaze and stuttered out, "If you don't want me here, I can leave…" then turned to walk out of the room.

Draco's eyes widened, as he practically shouted his protest, "No, don't leave!", and even lept up to wrap his fingers around Harry's wrist.

Harry halted and slowly looked down towards their connected limbs. Draco closed his eyes in embarrassment. He really needed to start thinking before he did things. When he opened his eyes again, they were directly aimed where he and Harry were joined. Draco's hand was stark white against Harry's tan skin in the dim lighting, and Draco's heart picked up at the sight of their hands so close.

He then abruptly took his hand back.

"Just…sit down," Draco's mind was rambling, "I think I need to vent."

Harry nodded slowly and took a seat on the bed a wide distance away from Draco while keeping his curious green eyes on Draco the whole time. Draco felt unsettled by the attention, but just stared at his lap, where his hands were gripped together tightly. He didn't know where to start.

Draco's mind immediately went to Harry's parents. He'd heard around that Harry had two dads, but he'd always wondered… "Did you ever have a mum?"

Draco looked back up just in time to see Harry’s posture slump and his face fall. It was such a miniscule action that Draco wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't keying every reaction Harry was having at the moment.

"Yes," Harry whispered, then continued in a stronger voice, "And a different father."

"Were you adopted?"

"Sort of… it's a long story."

"Hey, I love stories," Draco referenced with a wink.

Harry shifted his eyes around the room for the hundredth time in thought. Before Draco could apologize for being nosy, Harry pointed towards the untouched food tray between them with his lips upturned, "If you eat while I tell you."

Draco pulled the tray closer, “Oh, dinner _and_ a show?” Harry chuckled as Draco reached for the tall glass of pumpkin juice to cure his recent dehydration.

"So, as you probably know, I'm from England." Draco nodded in response as he took a huge gulp from the self-filling goblet. "I moved to Sweden when I was two years old with Sirius and Remus, my adoptive dads."

Draco set down his goblet and looked at the food selection. It looked like Harry brought one of everything from the Great Hall. "Your sort-of-adopted dads," He added, choosing the large drumstick sitting in the center of the plate. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until then.

Harry nodded, "Yes, sort-of-adopted dads." He took a deep breath, and released a string of almost unintelligible words, "Really dads who stole me from a scene of crime and faked our deaths then ran out of the country."

Draco dropped the drumstick that was halfway to his wide-open mouth. Harry gauged Draco's expression as an amused grin broke across his face. Draco blinked, "Well, that's going to need some explanation."

Harry nodded, "Thought so." Draco picked up his drumstick, which was now covered in mashed potatoes, and took a large bite. "Okay, so my birth mother and father died, well…were murdered…" Draco just nodded and chewed, deciding to keep his overdramatic reactions from making him choke on the chicken. "Sirius, my godfather at the time, showed up before anyone else did - he actually had Halloween plans with my parents. I believe he showed up in a camel costume with two bottles of booze hidden in his humps." Harry chuckled at the thought, but he looked pretty much deep in thought as he told the story, so Draco didn't reply and kept listening.

"He found my parents, who were already long dead, and then found me, in my crib, crying my little eyes out. He said he couldn't even think of leaving me alone, so without a second thought, he just…took me. Even managed to carry me while he drove his flying motorcycle. At that point, he was married to Remus for a little over a year, and when Remus saw Sirius arrive with a baby, he…freaked out." Harry paused, taking a deep breath. Draco had stopped eating somewhere while Harry was telling the story, which Harry immediately noticed and pointed an angry finger towards the tray. Draco sheepishly picked up the fork and dove into the mashed peas.

"Anyways, the people who killed my parents were part of some organization, and somehow their leader died at my house, so, naturally, all the followers were outraged. They were very dangerous people." Draco nodded along while eating, noticing how vaguely familiar this story seemed to him. _Déjà vu_ , he guessed. "Sirius and Remus hid me in their house in England for the year after, in which I apparently complained all the time about how I never went out. Obviously, it was way too dangerous for me to go outside while these people were roaming around trying to find the Boy who Escaped--" Harry was abruptly stopped by Draco's fork clattering the plate loudly. "Would you stop dropping everything?"

"Y-you're the Boy who Escaped?" Draco stuttered out, suddenly not hungry and very aware of who Harry really was. 

Harry nodded indifferently and sniffed, "Yeah, you'd probably heard of me…apparently, I was in the papers for a good while there." Draco nodded slowly, even though that was not how he'd heard of Harry. "Anyways," Harry continued with little thought about Draco's outburst, "After a year of being completely miserable and paranoid, my dads decided that completely disappearing would be a good idea. So, they faked their own deaths and brought me to a tiny cottage in the middle of Sweden, and we'd lived there ever since."

Draco was still having a crisis about Harry's identity but abruptly pushed it back to consider Harry's story like the polite friend he was. "Well…wow," was all he could say, and he huffed in annoyance. So much for being a good friend.

"Sounds just like a novel, right?" Harry chuckled. Draco nodded. A silence settled over them. Harry probably thought it was a comfortable silence, but it was really just Draco sorting everything together. Harry, the boy who was probably quickly becoming his best friend, was the Boy who Escaped. He immediately felt guilt wash over him at the thought.

Harry seemed to read Draco's body language and immediately asked, "What's wrong?"

Draco shook his head, and almost burst into tears at the thought of telling Harry the truth of what's bothering him. He knew he’d lose Harry if he told him, which was the last thing he wanted. So, he told him the other truth, "My father died today--yesterday, I don't know."

Harry immediately scooted down the bed towards Draco, moved the food tray out of the way, and squeezed his shoulder, "I'm sorry, I couldn't imagine how you're feeling right now."

Harry’s hand somehow made Draco feel more grounded, and he relaxed under the touch, "I don't know how I'm feeling." He kept his eyes on the blank wall across the bed. Harry just hummed in question. Draco thought he was the best friend he could have - he didn't push. He seemed to move in small intervals when something got serious and checked for any sign of discomfort before doing anything. Harry was the most considerate person Draco'd ever met. 

"I've only really seen him twice in sixteen years, he is-- _was_ in Azkaban for most of my life. One time a few years after he was thrown in, and the other when I was thirteen," Draco paused, not knowing how to word this without Harry running off and leaving Draco alone.

"I'm sorry, that must have sucked," Harry replied. Draco could tell he really didn't know how to help him, which he didn't blame him for. It was a complicated situation that even Draco himself couldn't understand.

"No, don't be. I never wanted to visit him. Both times were due to my mother's wishes. After the second time, I never wanted to go back. He…he was a horrible person before he was locked away, hence why he was there in the first place. But after over ten years in that nightmare of a place, he lost the little wits he had and tried to choke his thirteen year old son." Draco could hear his own voice crack on the last word and let himself take a breath. He remembered the look on his father's face the first time he saw Draco since Draco was five years old. He completely forgot that he had a son and thought Draco was some type of 'enemy of the Dark Lord.' Draco still remembered the sight of the grimy, shaking hands forming a choking gesture before the guards quickly took his father away. That was the last time Draco ever saw him. Draco's chin wobbled threateningly at the thought.

Harry sat quietly during Draco's long silence, letting Draco speak as much as he wanted. "I wasn't completely surprised when that happened. My mother had told me stories about his past and warned me about what Azkaban sometimes did to a Wizard. But, it still shook me. I think I was never proud of who my father was, but after that visit, it became more concrete." Draco took another shaky breath, "So, when my mother sent me an owl today, informing me that my father had passed away in Azkaban, you can imagine I had absolutely no idea how to react." Draco met Harry's eyes, giving him permission to reply.

Harry nodded, "Like how I never knew my parents as living people…I never really know how to react every time they pass my mind."

"Yeah," Draco whispered, "Like that. It's also like…" Draco paused in thought, "Let's say your best friend's cousin died. You know it's sad for them and that you need to be there for them, but you're not directly sad about their cousin being gone, does that make sense?" Harry nodded encouragingly and Draco went on, "Well, I'm devastated for my mother, have been even before he passed away. My father was the love of her life, and she spent years with him even before I was born. Then he betrayed her by putting his family at risk with his bad choices, which landed him in a place that slowly deteriorated him until he was nothing. Even through all of that, she loved him. And now she can't visit him and listen to his crazy ramblings anymore. My mother means so much to me that his death means more than my crazy father dying…it means that her heart's broken, that she's hurt."

Draco touched his fingertips to his own cheeks and felt they were wet once again. Great, now he was crying in front of Harry. He looked at Harry for his reaction, and only found warmth and comfort in his eyes before he pulled Draco in for a hug.

They'd never hugged before, which Draco immediately regretted when he felt Harry's warmth wrapped around him. He felt safe. So, Draco let everything go. He sobbed into Harry's shoulder and wrapped his arms around his back. The two of them stayed like that for what seemed like forever. Then, Harry rubbed between Draco's shoulder blades slowly, an intimate gesture that surprised Draco so much that he automatically pulled away.

Harry wasn't affected by Draco's reaction and kept his hand on Draco's shoulder to ground him. Finally, Draco's sniffling subsided and his eyes stopped watering and the two of them just sat on the bed, connected by a hand, looking at each other.

Draco smiled, "Thanks for being here for me, Harry."

"You would do the same," Harry immediately replied. Draco slowly nodded.

Their silence was broken by Harry's stomach loudly rumbling. Harry's blush deepened once the long growl ended, and Draco snorted in amusement as he pulled the dinner tray back towards them, "Now it's your turn to eat."

Draco and Harry spent the rest of the night leaning against Draco's headboard, eating the remaining food, and fighting over the bigger half of the pumpkin pasty. They settled into a comfortable conversation about themselves. Draco shared how much he actually loved the ballet lessons his mother made him take that he pretended to hate and his future aspirations to create new healing potions to cure all sorts of disease. Then he learned how Harry always wanted to become a professional Quidditch player, but couldn't because his dads were worried people would recognize him, and that he had recently gained some interest in becoming an Auror in Sweden.

“Is that an attempt to keep up with your nickname, Scar Head?” Draco teased.

Harry’s mouth quirked up at the nickname, “I’m not sure how many scars I can fit on my head but I’d be willing to try if that ridiculous nickname actually sticks.”

They continued their conversation about nothing in particular, which somehow led to Harry begging Draco to teach him curse words in French, to which Draco replied, “Only if you teach me some in Swedish.”

“It seems our friendship has become full of conditions recently,” Harry replied with a chuckle, “And I wish I could, but I only know formal Swedish, none of that fun stuff.”

Draco replied impressively quickly, “Well, _ce putain de suce_.”

Harry elbowed Draco in the arm and muttered, “Privileged.”

Draco snorted.

Eventually, the conversation became slower and both Draco and Harry slumped against the headboard, their eyes slowly drooping closed after a long, emotional day.


	7. Wrong

The Great Hall was filled with the mixed scents of cinnamon toast and bacon as sleepy students murmured their way through breakfast before their dreaded classes started. Harry sat next to Draco - who was slathering a heart-clotting amount of butter onto his toast - and across from an affectionate Dean and Seamus, who were getting glares from Ron right next to them. 

The half-eaten piece of bacon sitting on Harry's plate was suddenly grabbed and lobbed at Ron's head, who immediately reacted by narrowing his eyes at Draco.

Harry silently added a few replacement pieces of bacon to his plate.

Draco shrugged nonchalantly at Ron, and focused on gathering more butter to drown his toast in, "Leave them be." Seamus and Dean broke out of their staring competition at the first conversation any of them had brought up this morning, and both glanced at Ron questioningly.

Ron's eyes narrowed even further, "I don't know what you mean."

Harry watched Draco's mouth open to say something, then close abruptly (to Harry's delight) at the sight of a huge stream of owls swooping into the Great Hall. Ron and Draco hadn't been getting along since they met, but they were getting a lot better recently, and Harry had a feeling it might have to do with him.

Suddenly, a snowy owl landed in front of Harry, almost knocking over his goblet of water. "Hedwig!" He exclaimed, immediately feeding her a small piece of bacon and stroking her bright white feathers, "What do you have for me today, girl?" Hedwig chirped in greeting and lifted her foot, to which was tied a small pouch.

Harry untied the pouch and fed Hedwig another piece of bacon before letting her fly off to rest. Inside the pouch were a couple galleons and a folded up piece of parchment. He took out the parchment.

_Dear Harry,_

_Here's a little something to get you some nice robes for the upcoming Yule Ball._

_Please don't use it on alcohol._

_Love,  
Moony and Padfoot_

"Oh no," Harry groaned as he stuffed the note back into its pouch.

The boys broke out of their conversation at Harry's complaint. "What's wrong?" Dean asked. Harry's eyes migrated down towards Dean's hand resting casually on top of Seamus's.

"Nothing, just…" Harry's eyes lifted to meet Dean's curious ones, "Forgot there's supposed to be a Ball for the Tournament. I guess I should go shopping for robes soon."

Draco scoffed and Harry looked at him with raised eyebrows. Draco blinked in response, "Are you serious? It's all the Beauxbatons students ever talk about - I swear it's the only reason my friends dragged me here."

Harry shrugged in response, "You don't talk about it."

"Seamus and I've yet to get anything for the Ball, too," Dean said from across the table.

"Neither have I," Ron interjected with a smile, "Does this call for a trip to Hogsmeade next weekend?"

"As long as I can come along," Draco insisted, "I don't trust you lot to find anything half-decent enough for the Yule Ball."

Seamus scoffed in fake offense, "I don't think I'll be listening to your fashion advice when you're sitting there, wearing blue silk pajamas every day."

Draco let out a laugh and stroked his shoulder fondly, "They aren't _pajamas_ , they're uniforms. You know, those things you all wear every day as well?"

Seamus rolled his eyes playfully in response but didn’t say anything.

Harry suddenly remembered a conversation he'd had with Seamus what felt like forever ago. He turned towards Draco, who'd already had his eyes on Harry. Draco awkwardly cleared his throat and shifted his gaze to his half-eaten toast. "You know, when I first saw your lot--"

"My lot?" Draco interrupted curiously. His grey eyes moved from his plate back to Harry.

"Yes, your lot. I was thinking about your uniforms, and we assumed that you must have different ones for the winter, but now that it's _snowing_ outside, you're still wearing those thin things…"

"Harry, have you ever heard of Warming Charms?" Draco picked up his toast and took a bite.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. It shouldn't have been _that_ simple, "Y-yes, of course, I use them all the ti--"

"Then why would we waste precious fabric on warm clothes when we could just use magic?"

Dean huffed at the concept, "Seems exhausting."

Draco turned to Dean with a smirk decorating his warm face, "Yes, well, turns out the French have a lot more stamina than you Scandinavians."

"Oi!" Harry exclaimed, at the same time as Seamus and Dean.

Draco rolled eyes immediately in response, "You've already been in England for too long. Where's your culture?" A casual smile decorated Draco's face. Harry loved seeing Draco like this - he hadn't been happy all that much since his father died.

Harry's attention was grabbed by movement on the other side of the Hall, where a scraggly, school-issued owl flew in late. It carried a medium-sized paper package. 

Ron jumped as the package landed on the table directly in front of him, "Oi!" He had no time to scold the owl because it was gone as quick as it had arrived.

"At least _he's_ English," Draco muttered to himself, blowing a hanging, bright strand of hair off his forehead. Draco had stopped gelling his hair back as much as he used to, which Harry would never admit he enjoyed a lot more.

"What'd you get, Ron?" Dean asked with barely contained excitement.

Ron ripped open the package roughly and picked up its contents for everybody to see. Harry immediately stifled a giggle when he set his eyes on the frilliest robes he'd ever seen - which was impressive given Sirius's terrible Halloween costumes.

Ron's face turned pink once he realized what he'd been sent. Embarrassed, he threw the robes onto the table quickly, on top of the ripped paper, "Erm, I think Mum's sent me my sister's robes on accident…"

"Oh no, those are definitely for you. Looks like traditional wizardswear for special events back in the seventies," Draco assured through an amused smile. Harry let himself smile, too.

"Bloody hell, Draco, that can't be right - look at all this lace," Ron pointed at the bundled fabric, as though Draco hadn't seen it right the first time. But, to Ron's dismay, Draco shrugged and lifted his eyebrows in silent apology. "Bloody _hell_!"

Ron's scene was immediately interrupted by Seamus's unforgettable seal-like laugh. Everyone soon followed, laughing at Ron - who even joined after a bit of sulking.

Harry took a gulp of air once his laughing was dying down to small giggles, and risked a glance towards Draco. He'd expected to catch an eyeful of the way Draco's eyes always scrunched when he laughed, the way all of his teeth seem to show when he smiled the biggest he could…but instead he was frozen with wide eyes and a slacked mouth. "Draco?" Harry muttered worryingly, trying not to attract the others' attention. But Draco didn't move. 

Harry followed Draco's frozen gaze and immediately stood from his seat at what he found: Pansy briskly walking across the Great Hall towards Draco, with two boys wearing green ties following her dumbly.

Pansy finally arrived and stood across from Harry, with her arms crossed and a face completely wiped free of any emotion. She eyed Harry before dropping her gaze to Draco, who still sat completely frozen, but now staring at his half-eaten toast with wide eyes and a perfect posture.

"Draco," Pansy snapped, her eyes glued to the back of Draco's still head. Harry narrowed his eyes at the side of Pansy's face and hoped she could feel him burning holes in her stupid makeup-covered skin. Thick tension vibrated in the now silent air around them.

" _Draco_ ," Pansy repeated in an ever shorter tone. Finally, Draco shifted his head so slightly he was now glancing in Pansy's direction. Pansy seemed to believe this was good enough, " _Nous pouvons-nous parler…seul?_ "

Harry's anger towards Pansy lit up even further when he realized she thought she could just patronize Draco like that. Harry turned towards Draco and crossed his arms to match Pansy's posture. He tried to use the friendliest tone he could, despite his anger, "What'd she say?"

Draco turned so he was directly facing Harry, Pansy's view of him now just of his back, "She asked if we--"

"I don't need a _translator_ , Draco," Harry watched Draco flinch at Pansy's loud voice. He narrowed his eyes once again as he shifted a hard glare onto Pansy. She didn't react, just tightened her crossed arms and said nonchalantly, "May I take Draco away from you for a moment? We need to talk."

_Take Draco away from you_ rang loudly through Harry's ears. "Whatever you need to say, you can say it in front of all of us," He scoffed.

A long stretch of silence rushes over the entire group as Harry challenged Pansy in a glaring competition. Finally, Pansy gave in and breathed out a "Fine," before moving her gaze away from Harry and settling it on the confused group of boys sitting at the table. She took a deep breath before uncrossing her arms and declaring, "Draco and I are getting back together."

"Excuse me?" Harry almost yells, just a bit softer than Draco's screech of something vaguely representing the same words.

Draco shot Harry a warning look, very clearly communicating to Harry that he should stay out of it. Harry shook his head slightly, hoping Draco knew that wasn't possible. Draco only intensified his look even more and Harry had no other choice than to sit back down next to Draco.

Pansy only shifted her gaze to Draco, who looked back up to her with an incredulous look, "You heard me."

Draco stuttered out a few jumbled words, before huffing frustratingly and replying, "I really hope you know that normal people make decisions about their relationship status _after_ discussing it with another person."

"I _did_ discuss it with someone. My parents," Pansy replied confidently, "They told me it was a bad idea, breaking up with you for such a silly reason."

Harry sees Draco's jaw clench before he breathed heavily through his nose, "You're supposed to talk to _me_ before getting me stuck in something I don't…" Draco trailed off, his eyes widening frighteningly.

"That you don't _what_ , Draco?"

"Nothing," Draco faltered, his eyes suddenly finding his own lap where his fingers clenched each other. Harry could feel his jaw clench as well as he tried to keep himself quiet.

Pansy watched Draco with hard eyes silently before finally uncrossing her arms. "Okay, fine. I'll go with your discussion thing. Let's talk about getting back together," She placed each hand on Draco's and Harry's shoulders and began pushing them in opposite directions. Harry immediately shook her hand off with mild disgust, but still shifted over because he had a feeling she would sit _on_ him if she had to. Pansy took a seat in the now empty space between him and Draco.

Harry still let out a huge sigh - he wouldn't conform to her wishes without protesting.

Pansy instantly turned towards Harry at the sound and scrunched her face, "Something wrong?"

Harry tightened his lips and let his eyes wander towards Draco, who had a frightened look on his face. Again, he was silently telling Harry to lay off. Harry let out another loud sigh before turning towards his plate and picking up a piece of now cold bacon. He pretended to nibble on the food as he listened to Draco almost intimately whisper to the practically-shaking-with-anger Pansy, "Pans…can we please just talk about this later? _Seul?_ "

Pansy's short hair whipped Harry across the face as she turned to look at Draco, "Why not now? Your friend here was adamant on hearing everything we needed to discuss."

Harry paused - bacon halfway to his mouth - and held his breath. He knew he was getting red, both from anger and lack of oxygen, but he wanted to stay that way until Draco's ex-girlfriend left the premises in case he whipped out his wand and cast an Unforgivable.

"Pansy…" Draco whined.

Harry was almost positive Draco was looking at Pansy with his wide eyes and lifted eyebrows, because it always worked on Harry and it seemed to have worked on Pansy. "Fine," She huffed. Harry could feel her stand, and looked up just in time to watch her briskly walk out of the Great Hall, followed once again by the useless prunes from before.

" _Pute_ ," He breathed out, letting out the air he held in for so long. After a beat of silence, Harry turned towards Draco and slid nearer to him, to cover the space Pansy was just taking up. He examined Draco's face, taking in the different emotions that flitted across it so quick it was hard to tell what exactly Draco was feeling. "She was so mean to you…I can't believe you're giving her a chance," Harry muttered dryly.

"That's just Pansy for you," Draco let out a weak laugh and shifted his gaze to Harry.

" _Just Pansy?_ Draco, there's no excuse for her to treat you like that."

"She's not always like that."

"Why are you defending her?!" Harry yelped. He could feel his face heat with anger once again.

"She's been my best friend for _years_ ," Draco didn't seem fazed by Harry's change in volume, only matched it with the same ferocity. _Good,_ Harry thought, _At least he isn't scared of me like he is of her._

"Oh, so because we've been friends for a few months my opinion is suddenly invalid?" Harry stood again, his heart pounding hard in his chest at the thought of Draco thinking the she-beast was a better friend than him.

"What the fuck," Draco stood as well, his fists clenched at his sides, "I did _not_ say that."

"Then why aren't you listening to me? You cannot give her another chance!"

"I never said I was giving her another chance, just that I would talk with her."

"Talking to her is giving her a chance!"

"Why do you give a damn who I fuck?!" Draco screamed, his cheeks completely red and his chin wobbling dangerously.

Harry just stood silently for a moment. His nostrils flared to catch up with his heavy breathing and his eyes narrowed. "Sorry I care about you," He said quietly. Harry clenched his jaw in anticipation as he watched the words process in Draco's head.

Draco's glare intensified once he realized what Harry had said and huffed loudly, "I can't believe you're making me the bad guy."

Harry's eyes widened in realization of what exactly he might have been trying to do. It wasn't like that. He wasn't like her. "Draco, I--"

"No, oh no…I get it. I'm being stupid for giving that pute any sort of empathy," Draco spat out. Harry flinched at the French word, this time in embarrassment.

But Harry didn't want to say anything and ruin his argument. He was still angry at Draco for giving Pansy a chance. The two of them glared at each other for what felt like forever. Finally, Draco breathed a deep sigh before picking up his bag, and with one last glare at Harry, storming off. Harry just watched Draco's retreating back

Draco disappeared through the Great Hall's doors and Harry finally got the will to look at his friends sitting across from him. Ron was staring at Harry with a slacked jaw, and Seamus and Dean were both looking at Harry like they thought they knew what Harry was going through. Obviously, they didn't. 

But instead of confronting Dean and Seamus for thinking they knew everything about Harry's feelings, Harry just sat back down with a huff of annoyance.

Harry decided to busy himself through the thick silence that overcame their table by eating the rest of his bacon, but immediately threw the pieces down when he realized they were basically cold as ice already. It was just a _fantastic_ day already.

"Oh, Ginny!" Ron practically yelled, shattering the awkward silence. Harry's head whipped up to see what was going on, mostly to distract himself from Draco's absence. His eyes landed on a girl with orange hair exactly the same shade as Ron's, a freckled face, and big brown eyes.

She immediately stopped walking at the sound of Ron's voice, "Ron? I thought you were busy ignoring me." Her eyes shifted to meet Harry's. She nodded towards Harry, "Who's this?"

Ron's head spun to see who she was talking about, though Harry could tell he knew who - Ron was just trying to stall another heavy silence, "What? Oh, that's Harry. Harry Evans."

Harry tried to plaster on a polite grin and tipped his head towards Ginny.

"Anyways," Ron spun back to face his sister, obviously wanting to change the subject. Harry was probably accidentally giving her a death glare…not that he cared. "Gin, I have a question," Ron picked up the robes that he dropped haphazardly on the table earlier and lifted them to show her, "These are supposed to be yours, right?"

Ginny barely glanced at the robes before she started giggling uncontrollably, attracting even more attention from the students surrounding them.

Ron slumped in response and muttered, "Bloody hell."

Harry could have laughed along, but he was busy examining the giggling girl standing across from him.

***

"--And I believe that's all we have scheduled to learn about Muggle transportation." A murmur of voices and shuffling of papers filled the room in anticipation of Double Charms finally ending. Professor Flitwick stood taller on his toes and yelled over the students, "Remember next week you have two feet due on a type of Muggle transportation of your choice and its impact on Muggle society! You are dismissed."

Before Harry could even stand, Seamus appeared in front of him, a serious look on his face, "Hey, Harry, can we talk?"

Normally, Harry would ask who died to make Seamus so serious about something, but he had a feeling this wasn't the time to joke. "Yeah, of course," Harry stuttered. He stood and sat his bag on his chair.

Seamus stared at him expectantly, glancing momentarily at Ron, who still sat next to Harry. "Erm, sorry Ron…this has to be private," Seamus muttered with a sympathetic smile.

Ron seemed to break out of his trance and began quickly gathering his things, "Yeah, yeah of course. It's fine. I'll just..go. See you both later." He swung his bag over his shoulder and began walking out of the classroom before pausing and turning back, "Tea?"

Harry and Seamus nodded simultaneously, and Ron smiled back before walking out of the room and leaving Harry alone with Seamus.

"So…what did you want to talk to me about?" Harry asked awkwardly when Seamus didn't say anything right away.

"That was a pretty intense argument back there with Draco," Seamus conceded, now looking at Harry with concern.

Harry shifted under his intense gaze, "Yeah," He tried not to stutter, "But it'll be okay. Draco will come around, I think." Seamus looked away from Harry and crossed his arms while taking a deep breath. "What?" Harry asked, Seamus's awkwardness making Harry even more nervous about what he was about to say.

"Erm, Harry," Seamus lifted a hand and carded it through his hair, "Please don't get mad, but--"

"Mad? Seamus, you're making me scared."

"Just…" Seamus hesitated, his eyes flicking back and forth from Harry's face to some random point behind his shoulder.

"Spit it out! I'm not fragile!" Harry crowed.

Seamus paused, looking at Harry with wide eyes. "I know, Harry," He replied seriously. Another pause. Harry sucked in a deep breath to keep himself from yelling at Seamus.

"Seam--"

"Do you like him?" Seamus blurted.

Harry stopped. He could immediately feel his face heat - he knew who Seamus was talking about without any mention of Draco's name. "No, we're just friends," Harry sputtered. His face heated even more at his weak voice, "What makes you think I like him?"

"I…" Seamus hesitated. He leaned against the desk and traced its edge, "That argument. I don't think just regular _friends_ argue over an ex like that." Seamus moved his gaze back to Harry, "You got heated really quickly without knowing anything about their history."

Harry scoffed, "You saw her! She treated him like crap!" A large bang noise reverberated in the empty classroom as Harry dropped his fist on the desk.

Seamus flinched, but immediately shushed Harry and placed his hand gently on Harry's tight fist, "Yes, it _was_ horrid. But the look on your face. You looked betrayed, like…" Seamus paused in thought and furrowed his eyebrows in frustration as if he couldn't find the right words, "Like he broke your heart when he left."

Seamus ran his thumb over Harry's clenched fingers. Harry loosened his fist instinctively at the touch...and at the thoughts beginning to run through his head. 

His chest had felt like it's been constricted since he watched Draco leave the Great Hall in anger. It felt a lot like the hopelessness he felt when he thought he'd lost his dads forever, when he sat in the snow and sobbed.

Suddenly, loud and quick footsteps echoed through the classroom. Harry wiped a tear that was traveling down his cheek and turned to face Ron, who stopped in front of him and Seamus and bent over with exhaustion.

"You won't believe what Blaise just told me."

***

" _Salut_!" Luna's bright voice amplified.

Draco froze and turned slowly to face his friends, an innocent smile plastered on his face, " _Salut_ , Luna _et_ Blaise."

Blaise didn't even bother greeting Draco - just sighed and hiked his bag up on his shoulder, clearly something on his mind, "Draco…"

"Blaise, please don’t make this more complicated than it already is," Draco replied with as much force in his voice he could manage.

Luna took a careful step towards Draco, "Draco, we need to talk."

"You too, Luna?" Draco scoffed, "You know, _vous êtes ma famille_ , but I think I'm perfectly capable of making my own--" Draco stopped abruptly as his eyes land on a certain dark-haired Durmstrang boy walking the opposite direction down the hall. Harry was walking as quickly as possible, his face screwed up in the perfect representation of anger.

Draco wondered what could possibly be on his mind.

"Your decisions recently are a bit concerning," Luna's voice barely broke Draco out of his thoughts, "Are you sure you don't want me to check you for Nargles? Does your head feel fuzzy?"

Draco shook his head absently, his eyes resting on the empty spot where Harry just was.

A hand suddenly curled around Draco's bicep and shook him roughly. "Agh, Blaise," Draco yelped in surprise.

Blaise's hard face appeared in Draco's vision, "Draco, why did you ask Pansy to the Yule Ball?"

***

Harry paused on his way back to the Durmstrang ship when his gaze landed on a figure standing in the snow bank next to the Black Lake. A figure with long, ginger hair.

Harry took a deep breath to steady himself and clear all his visible anger before walking up to the figure.

"Hello, Ginny…"

Ginny looked up at Harry's voice, a smile immediately decorating her face, "Hey Harry! Ron off stalking Hermione?"

Harry grimaced, knowing that was probably exactly what Ron was doing. But he had more important things to worry about. "Yeah, erm," Harry scratched his head awkwardly, not knowing how to word it, "I have a question…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And things were just getting good...


	8. The Yule Ball

“Why is today so boring?” Draco was, indeed, very bored. He hung off his bed so his head was only a few inches off the floor and he began to see stars - his bored position.

Blaise was sitting on the floor across from Draco, cradling a large book in his lap. “Because all the girls are off getting ready for the Ball,” He muttered, not even looking up from the page.

“But the _entire_ day?” Draco groaned. He didn’t know why, but these past few weeks have been way too boring for his taste.

Okay, maybe he did know why, but he didn’t want to think about how lost all of his friends in one day.

Still not looking up from his monstrosity of a book, Blaise nonchalantly shrugged in response. Draco could tell he wasn’t in a good mood.

But still, Draco was _bored_ , which he had to broadcast through the longest sigh he could manage.

Blaise didn’t react.

Draco carded his fingers through his un-gelled hair so it hung towards the ground below him. It barely touched the floor. Draco wondered if he should charm his hair a nice _noire_ to go with Pansy’s heart tonight for the Ball…

“Draco,” He shifted his unfocused gaze towards Blaise, who closed his book and set it beside himself. Draco rolled his eyes in response, finally gave into his pounding head, and sat up properly on the bed as Blaise continued, “I know you’re extremely adamant about avoiding discussing your decision to ask Pansy to the Yule Ball...”

Draco grimaced and laid on his bed, draping his arm dramatically across his face.

“But you can’t avoid it forever,” Blaise sighed and stood. “ _Sacré bleu_ ,” Blaise immediately groaned, or at least Draco thought he did - Draco wasn’t sure since he clapped his hands on top of his own ears.

But Draco’s sweet escape immediately came to an end as Blaise pulled Draco’s unwilling hands off his head.

“Could we please have a conversation like adults?” Blaise pleaded.

“Who said we’re adults?” Draco muttered, not moving from his position on the bed and staring - no, glaring - at the ceiling above him.

Blaise appeared above Draco’s line of vision with narrowed eyes, his face shifting into a slight pink shade, “You know I’m not going to stop asking until you answer me.”

Draco knew that - but he also knew he was pretty good at avoiding questions himself. Draco shrugged and closed his eyes, blocking Blaise from his view, “You’re going to wear your voice out.”

Blaise didn’t reply, only glared at the side of Draco’s face. 

Truth be told, being stubborn wasn’t the only reason Draco wouldn’t have a conversation with Blaise about Pansy, though it _was_ a big reason. The other part of it was that Draco asked Pansy to the Ball without even thinking about it - the only thing he could hear was his head screaming that he needed to get away from Harry. He found Pansy waiting in the hall without her two goonies and sporting an expectant face. Draco’s anger was still prickling at his neck when he spotted her, and the first thing he did was charge up and ask her to the Ball.

Not the best instinct Draco could have, he would admit.

Obviously, Draco couldn’t do anything to fix it - Harry wasn’t going to speak to him ever again, even if Draco found a way to break it off with Pansy. Draco felt a pang in his chest when he remembered the unguarded look he caught on Harry’s face while passing him on his way to Defence just the day before. Draco couldn’t explain how, but he knew that he somehow betrayed Harry when he agreed to get back together with Pansy.

“Please,” Blaise’s voice pleaded Draco out of his thoughts. Draco blinked. Out of all the years they’d been friends, he’d never heard Blaise beg. Draco rolled his head over to meet his curious eyes with Blaise’s wide ones, and the begging voice came out again, “Talk to me.”

Draco sighed for the hundredth time that day, but this time, it was because he was giving up. “I would tell you if I knew myself,” He said quietly, staring at Blaise’s dark eyes in hopes they would provide comfort.

A thick silence overlaid them as Blaise stared at Draco in deep thought. His face shifted minisculely into one reflecting the comfort Draco was wishing for, before moving to pick up Draco’s laid out legs and sitting on the bed, placing Draco’s legs back down on his lap.

“Why do you and Luna care so much about this? I thought you both were supportive of our relationship before…” Draco trailed off.

“We _were_ supportive, Draco,” Blaise looked at him with soft eyes, “But near the end we noticed her start to become...controlling. I mean, not that that’s unusual for Pansy, but she’d changed. Like she wanted you to become this perfect boyfriend who heeded her every command.” Blaise paused to make sure Draco understood, so Draco nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure what Blaise was trying to say, “And you did...you started becoming less of yourself and more just...Pansy’s boyfriend.”

Draco didn’t say anything.

“After you broke up with Pansy, it was like you woke up from a daze - you were your own person again. You unconsciously stopped limiting yourself to a preformed box and started living with no worries,” Blaise let a beat of silence come over the two of them, eyeing Draco carefully. “You made more friends than you have for the past two years.”

Draco still kept his mouth shut but sniffed as quiet as he could - his vision was starting to get blurry with tears.

“And Harry…” Blaise hesitated and flicked his eyes around the room nervously, “Harry became the best friend you could have. Luna and I both agree he was probably the biggest reason you changed so much.”

“And now he won’t talk to me,” Draco muttered before he could stop himself. His chest constricted at the thoughts crowding his head.

Blaise sighed, leaned back on his hands, and stared up at the ceiling, “That doesn’t mean you can’t fix it.” He moved his eyes to Draco and furrowed his eyebrows in seriousness, “Now I’m not trying to force you to make any choices that you don’t want to - I just wanted to tell you that I don’t think continuing your relationship with Pansy is the best choice for you.”

Draco stared back at Blaise, trying his hardest to convey all his feelings into the one look so Blaise could read them without Draco saying a word and tell him what the hell was going on.

But if Draco wasn’t good at talking about his feelings, he doubted he’d be able to telepathically communicate them to his friend.

Blaise sat up, “I’ll leave you alone with your thoughts. Please know that Luna and I are here for you no matter what makes you happy.”

Draco nodded, his eyes now stuck on the ceiling above him once again. He felt Blaise squeeze his legs before standing, picking up his abandoned book, and leaving Draco’s room.

Draco let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He really, really wanted to fix his mistake but he didn’t know how. With Pansy, everything’s ten times harder - especially getting away from her. He was lucky the first time they broke up it was her decision. But now he was stuck again in a relationship with her and he knew very well she wouldn’t let him out of her iron grip until the day she died.

To his horror, tears started prickling the edges of Draco’s eyes at the thought.

***

Harry never thought he’d be able to be this pissed off for this long.

Although it’s been a few weeks, he still felt as if his argument with Draco was just yesterday - probably because Harry refused to even think about why he was so mad at him.

Harry shook his thoughts away and tried to focus on his reflection in front of him, ready for the Ball. He was wearing dark green, well-fitted robes that he found a mere week ago in Hogsmeade. Harry could practically hear Draco’s fake-snide tone tease Harry about his color choice - _”Aw, it matches your eyes.”_

A frustrated groan slipped from Harry’s throat. It was hard to ignore the fight when his mind kept reminding him of what he was missing. He focused back on the mirror.

He decided not to do anything with his hair - Remus once tried to slick it back with oil, which Harry decided he would never do again after all three of them had a long giggling fit over the pieces that kept trying to stick straight up through the oil. He also knew that it’d be messed up anyway, since he tended to card his fingers through his hair whenever he was frustrated or anxious. He happened to be feeling both that night.

After a long staring contest with his reflection while willing himself to push all his thoughts about Draco to the back of his mind, he smoothed a wrinkle in his robes and left for the Ball.

***

“Draco, dear, would you stop standing so far away and act like you actually enjoy my presence?” Pansy whispered harshly in Draco’s ear, making him involuntarily cringe.

Draco took one last glance over the crowd of people gathered in the festively-decorated Great Hall before Pansy heaved an irritated sigh and pulled Draco next to her with a hand on his waist. Before Draco could return the embrace, his eyes were caught on a familiar figure walking through the double doors into the Great Hall.

Harry was wearing a set of olive green robes that hugged his body a little too well and brought out his bright green eyes perfectly. He was adamantly watching the floor beneath him, obviously too self-conscious to look anywhere else.

His hand was holding another’s.

The girl next to him was wearing a dress colored in a lighter shade of green that complimented Harry’s dress robes well. She had bright orange hair and her face was dotted with orange freckles.

She was beautiful.

The girl twitched her hand in Harry’s grip, willing him to stop his staring contest with his feet. Harry immediately looked up and met eyes with Draco.

His face changed immediately from nervous to angry.

Draco internally cringed - of course, this interaction (if you could call it that) would go the same as it always did. Obviously, Harry looking way more attractive than usual didn’t change that.

Draco stopped breathing. _Attractive_.

Draco broke their eye contact and opted for starting a staring contest with his own feet as his stomach did an impressive acrobatic flip.

“Come on, Draco, I want to dance,” Pansy whined and began pulling him to the dance floor.

***

Harry wanted to focus on dancing with Ginny. He really did.

But his eyes were glued to Draco, who was performing some type of complicated, twirly dance with Pansy. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if they choreographed an entire routine just for the Ball - they seemed like that type of couple.

Harry visibly cringed when the word ‘couple’ slipped into his thoughts. That was not a good picture.

But still, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the dancing pair. Harry didn’t seem to be the only one who had the idea to match his wardrobe with his eye color - Draco was wearing a clean-cut set of grey dress robes that were embellished with stitched, black swirls near his shoulders and around his waist. Draco’s hair had gel in it, but it wasn’t slicked back like it was at the beginning of the year - it was formed in a complicated style that reminded Harry of the swirls.

Draco was looking...well...

Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. He was glad nobody he knew had any knack for Legilimency.

Ginny’s hand squeezed Harry’s shoulder, grabbing his attention away from Draco and onto the concerned brown eyes inches away from him.

“Hi,” Ginny smiled and loosened her tight grip on his shoulder.

“Hello,” Harry replied, a bit confused.

“Enjoying staring into the distance and stepping on my feet?”

“Yes, very much,” Harry assured, “How about you?”

Ginny hummed in thought, “Not exactly what I expected out of the night, but I can’t complain. You looked like a horrible date the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Harry opened his mouth in feigned offense and wiggled the fingers that were resting on her waist. He immediately earned a slap on the neck for that one.

When Harry decided to rest his gaze back onto its favorite target of the night, Draco was staring right back at him.

Harry immediately spun Ginny to avoid getting caught gawking at someone he was supposed to be mad at.

“Harry!” Two very excited voices yelled at the same time.

Harry stopped dancing and greeted the sources with a huge smile, “Seamus! Dean!”

“Look at you two!” Ginny said excitedly, motioning towards the boys’ dress robes. Seamus was dressed in a dark red ensemble with thin, white lines forming a lined design across his entire body, while Dean wore cream dress robes with thin red lines forming the same design.

“Have you seen Ron yet? I want to see his ugly dress robes,” Ginny asked with a smile. Harry let himself grin at the memory of Ron receiving the used dress robes from his mother.

“Ah, yes. The young man is sitting over there,” Dean pointed in the far corner, where Ron sat, sulking and sitting next to Neville at a large table. “Staring at Hermione,” Dean continued and moved his finger to point at Hermione, who was dancing elegantly with Viktor Krum.

Harry hummed in interest, “I didn’t know Hermione had a date to the Ball...I just kind of assumed she and Ron would go together.” Ginny, Dean, and Seamus all stared incredulously at Harry, who just stared right back, “What? What am I missing?”

“Have you not noticed?” Seamus said carefully, like Harry went insane.

Ginny looked over sadly at her brother, who now leaned his cheek on his hand, “Hermione’s been spending all her time lately with Viktor. She barely remembers Ron exists, apparently.”

“We thought you’d know this - what with you hanging out with Ron all the time now,” Dean continued.

Harry thought back to all the interactions he and Ron had recently. The only situations he could find were all some form of Harry ranting about Draco and Ron sitting there pretending to listen. 

Harry blinked. He was such a bad friend.

“I’m going to go speak with Ron,” Harry concluded.

Seamus patted his back with a smirk, “You go do that. I've got to speak to Neville about his hair." He caught Neville's attention and motioned him over, leaving Ron alone. 

Once Harry reached the table, he had no clue how to start the conversation. Ron looked up at him curiously as Harry stood there without words, “What’s up, mate?”

“Oh, nothing,” Harry tried to reply nonchalantly and leaned onto the back of a chair, “Just wanted to have a conversation with you.”

“Conversation? About what?” Ron asked, glancing around, “Did Draco do something?”

Harry sighed. He really needed to get himself together if that’s the first thing Ron thought of. “No, no, that’s not what I wanted to talk about,” Harry mumbled.

Ron just stared at him, confused.

“Do...do you want a drink? I can go get us some pumpkin juice and we can sit and talk,” Harry tried.

“You don’t want to go dance with Ginny?” Ron asked, picking at the tablecloth.

“Mate, I want to hang out with you,” Harry said sincerely.

Ron looked up at him and showed off a barely contained smile, “Then let’s have a drink!”

***

Draco watched Harry stalk over to the table at the far end of the Great Hall.

“Are you thirsty?” He looked at Pansy desperately and watched her nod. They stopped dancing, “Good, me too. I’ll go fetch us some drinks.”

He didn’t wait for Pansy’s reply before he dashed towards the table lined with punch bowls and cakes.

“Evening, Harry,” Draco sputtered at Harry, who was staring into the punch bowl like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

A small twitch of surprise rang through Harry before he casually picked up two plastic cups and set them beside the bowl, ignoring Draco.

Draco’s jaw clenched nervously. He knew this would be hard. Draco cleared his throat and said louder, “How’s your night going?”

Harry still doesn’t reply - if Draco didn’t know any better he’d think Harry couldn’t hear Draco over the immense amount of concentration apparently required to fill two plastic cups with pumpkin juice.

Draco leaned in closer this time and practically screamed in Harry’s ear, “Who’s your date? I don’t think I’ve met her before”

Finished with the difficult task of making the drinks, Harry carefully picked up the two full cups and began walking away from the table. 

Draco sighed with frustration, “Why aren’t you speaking to me?”

Finally, Harry stopped walking. He stood in place, back still facing Draco and hands still holding the two drinks close to his chest.

“Harry--”

“Can you please leave me alone?” Harry’s firm voice rewarded Draco.

“What? No, we haven’t spoken in weeks,” Draco practically whined.

“You made your choice.”

_What the hell did that mean?_ Draco clenched his fists by his side to control his temper, “Don’t you think that’s a little dramatic? I mean, I know you don’t approve of her, but that doesn’t mean we should stop being friends.”

Harry slowly turned to face Draco, who automatically held his breath. Harry’s face was screwed up with anger, and Draco suddenly didn’t want to hear what he had to say, “You--”

“Harry? What are you doing?” All tension fled from Draco's body. He was saved by the redhead date.

Harry’s heated glare let Draco free and moved to his date, “Oh, nothing important, Ginny. Here, have a drink.” He handed one of the full cups over to his date - Ginny - and Draco watched, surprised Harry didn’t crush one of the cups with his subdued anger.

Draco glanced towards the stage, where the music suddenly switched from fast and loud to slow and romantic.

When Draco looked back to the pair in front of him, Harry’s eyes were rested on him, “May I have this dance?” His hand was held out towards Ginny, who took it hesitantly and was immediately led towards the dance floor.

Before Harry broke their eye contact, he mouthed silent words to Draco that looked suspiciously like “You made your choice.”

Draco was frozen to the spot, staring at Harry as he clutched Ginny to his chest and swayed to the slow beat.

A hand suddenly appeared on the small of Draco’s back and he jumped in fright.

“Want to dance?” Pansy breathed into Draco’s ear, causing an unpleasant shiver to run down his back. He nodded.

_The fire has gone cold_

_And my heart can’t take the loneliness_

Draco couldn’t tear his eyes away from Harry’s swaying figure as he clutched Pansy’s waist.

And Harry couldn’t seem to tear his own eyes away from Draco.

_You made a fool out of me_

_And I can’t understand your heartlessness_

Draco would have cringed at the cheesy lyrics if he hadn’t caught Harry’s unguarded gaze towards him. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but it suddenly didn’t reflect anger. It...it was almost like he was hurt by something. Like Draco did that to him, somehow.

Draco sucked in a sharp breath and guided himself and Pansy towards the other end of the dance floor. He could feel a headache coming.

***

Harry’s heart was pounding so hard in his chest he was sure everyone in the room could hear it over the blaring music. People all around him were jumping around to the erratic beat of the song, like Harry was doing just a moment earlier. Until he saw Draco.

Specifically, until Draco saw Harry, then immediately leaned in close to Pansy and kissed her - all while staring holes into Harry’s own eyes.

His brain was screaming at him to stop staring and dance like a normal person, but his body wouldn’t move.

“Harry? Harry,” He could hear Ginny’s concerned voice before her hand gripped his shoulder. He wanted to turn towards her and tell her he was fine and get back to having a fun night, but he couldn’t.

For some reason, the only thing he could do was rip away from her grip and run the opposite way.

***

Draco immediately pulled away from Pansy, his eyes wide with shock at himself, “What the fuck?”

Pansy seemed unfazed at Draco’s sudden outburst as she occupied herself with stroking his chest and giving him a weird look, “Why’d you pull away? Do you want to go back to your room?”

Draco glared down at Pansy and pushed her off, “I need a moment.”

He walked quickly off the dance floor, not knowing exactly where he was going. Then Draco’s eyes caught a certain dirty blonde girl sitting alone at one of the huge tables circling the dance floor.

“Hi Luna,” Draco pulled out the chair right next to her and took a seat.

Luna kept her eyes on the dance floor, but offered a friendly smile, “Hello Draco.”

“Where’s Blaise off to?”

“Oh, with his date,”

Draco paused, confused. “Blaise has a date?”

Luna only hummed affirmatively. Maybe Draco hadn’t been paying much attention outside of himself.

“Luna, I have a hypothetical,” Draco started, wanting to organize his thoughts.

“Ooo, I love hypotheticals.”

“Good, well, hypothetically, let’s say you have a best friend,” Luna nodded, still looking out at the crowd with dreamy eyes. Draco wished he could be as carefree as her. “And you ditch them without a single thought to go date someone they don’t approve of,” He sighed - he could feel his mood diminishing quickly as he talked through the situation.

Luna nodded along again, now looking at Draco curiously.

“And they got _so_ angry - so angry that they didn’t talk to you for weeks. Then when you do try to talk to them, they tell you that you made your choice and ignore you to go dance with their date, who they flaunt in front of you. Then, later, when you…” 

Draco eyed Luna carefully, not knowing how to word the next part, “When you pay attention to your own date while, erm, keeping an eye on this friend, they look like you basically shot them in the chest and they leave without a word to anyone else.”

Draco stopped rambling and looked at Luna desperately while she took her sweet time what he hoped was thinking through his _hypothetical_. “Oh Draco,” She finally said...with pity.

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “What is it?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Erm, no...that’s why I came to you.”

“I really do think you need help with nargles, _mon ami_.” Luna poked her own temple with her index finger.

Draco’s patience was wearing thin in anticipation, “Probably, but until we can do that, can you please tell me what’s happening?”

“Well, I think this hypothetical friend of mine got their heart broken,” Luna frowned, “Oh I feel so bad for them.”

“Heartbroken?”

“Yes, of course, Draco. It’s simple.”

“I thought he hated Pansy, is he really in love with her?” Draco mumbled, trying to go through every glare and word he’d experienced for the past few weeks.

Suddenly, a fairy-like laugh bubbled from Luna, who was clutching her stomach, “Oh no, Draco! You’re not understanding me - this friend is in love with _you_!”

Draco’s mouth dropped. “Wh-wha--” He managed to stutter out in surprise, not knowing what to say.

Before he can even begin thinking about the possibility that Luna’s right, Pansy appeared right behind Luna and yawned dramatically, “Draco I think we should leave. I’m terribly exhausted.”

Luna waved a goodbye as Draco slowly stood from his seat and joined Pansy, “Goodnight, Draco and Pansy!” Draco waved back with slightly less enthusiasm.

As Pansy and Draco walked back to the carriage, questions flew through Draco’s mind at astonishing speeds. He settled on one, inconspicuous question that the girl walking next to him could help with: “Pansy, do you believe everything Luna says?”

Pansy let out a dry laugh, “I think over the years we’ve all learned not to take Luna the slightest bit seriously.” 

Draco nodded almost solemnly and stared at the ground. 

“What, did she tell you that the Blibbering Humdinger had a plot to ruin your life again?” Pansy asked curiously.

Draco let out a long sigh, “Something like that.”

***

Harry slammed his bedroom door and immediately started pacing while pulling roughly at his own hair. Why was this happening? Why was he acting like this? He touched his cheek and examined his fingers. _Wet_. Why was he crying?

His lungs felt smaller than usual and he stopped in front of the mirror, watching his chest rise and fall erratically.

_Draco,_ his reflection insisted as more tears fell from his eyes, _Draco’s the reason_.

Harry resisted the urge to punch the mirror and instead flopped onto his bed, belly-up. He stared at the ceiling with eyebrows so furrowed he could start to feel a dull headache coming on.

_Why?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy my summer break! I'm celebrating by taking a terrible summer class.
> 
> Hope you all are enjoying ToL so far - I love this story so much and I hope I'm not messing it up for you all (you know what's gonna come anyway, it'll be fine (or will it)).
> 
> Want to complain to me over direct messages? Easy, just go to i-cant-believe-its-not-bi.tumblr.com OR lilreyofmoonlight.tumblr.com and click the little message icon.
> 
> Love you all to bits


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